Wammy's Sunshine Daydream CampCamp
by gilbert norrell
Summary: When Light is hired as a counselor for a mysterious summer camp that seems to be more intent on breeding world leaders than archery, what's he to do? Try to take over, of course...but the head counselor has other plans for him. L/Light Near/Mello
1. IN WHICH THE BAIT IS TAKEN

Firstly, the elderly British gentleman wearing the immaculate white linen suit and straw boater was praising every merit listed on the extensive resume Light had sent two days prior.

Secondly, the offices of this camp were housed in a massive structure of woodsy elegance and grandeur that suited Light's idea of camping exactly. A camp that boasted training in falconry wouldn't send its tender, rich wards off into the wild housed in measly little shacks to be mauled by beasts, would they? They would not.

Thirdly, they had pleaded a desperate need for someone with Light's intelligence, physical stamina, and inherent charisma. And they were willing to pay him a half million pounds for three months to do what simply came natural.

_Yes_, Light thought as he shook the gentleman's hand and thanked him, _this is no short of perfect_.

Yet Light had no idea what was in store as he stood in his sensible camping shoes, khaki cargoes, and violently blue polo at the entrance of a building he assumed was his private quarters. He'd been ordered here by the elderly British gentleman to meet the counselor who would train him. Said counselor needed a partner in order to manage his charges as they were becoming emotionally and physically taxing (Oh, the lies Light had eaten!). Rather than take a break and show a laxity in dedication the counselor requested help.

And Light was _giddy_ to help.

He'd rightly assumed that Wammy's Sunshine Daydream Camp-Camp was much, much more than the frolics and rainbows its name implied. A camp that had claimed existence for seventy years that went unlisted in every indexed tome of summer camps, that hadn't registered with the Association of British Sleepaway Camps but with governmental authorities in no less than one hundred and three countries was hiding _some_thing. Light wanted to discover the something and exploit it until it was an empty husk, only good enough to be thrown away.

Which is why he had to make an excellent impression on the person exiting Light's quarters.

And suddenly, in a moment he could have never prepared for, Light's imagined ideal of what a trainer at a secret camp for spies or detectives or world leaders was shattered.

Standing above him on the steps almost huddled into the doorframe was a personage who may have been the same age as himself, or older, or younger. He couldn't quite tell. But Light had expected a uniform. He'd expected a shiny zeal and confidence that matched his own. He'd expected a person who scrubbed their face with wholesomeness in the morning before settling down to a breakfast of zesty love-of-life.

Instead...messy hair the color of pitch. A thin white undershirt and loose jeans. A blank expression devoid of any emotion excepting an almost-mocking glint in the eyes, but Light hardly caught that in lieu of the smokey smudges insomnia had drawn beneath them.

Bare. Feet.

"May I help you?" The creature shifted on the steps and Light noticed an infinitesimal stain on his collar. Disgusting. Light wiggled his toes and wondered if this was an errant camper forced to give the new staff member the grand tour. Most likely. But no matter—first impressions were first impressions, so he bounded up the steps with an outstretched hand.

"Hi, I'm Light Yagami. I was supposed to meet a counselor here to be given a tour of the camp. Do you know where he is?"

L almost laughed. Light was immaculate. Toffee-colored bangs brushed from his eyes, back erect, manner utterly confident as he shifted his weight to one foot and waited for a return gesture of welcome.

It was not forthcoming.

Instead, L pulled a bag of gumdrops from his pocket. "Why did you assume I wouldn't be the person you were seeking?"

A muscle in Light's temple quirked and the hand returned to his side, fisted. "I–are you?"

"Yes," was the rather anticlimactic reply. "Shall I give you the tour, then?" The counselor fished out a red gumdrop and popped it into his mouth before gingerly sliding past Light, who had no choice but to follow.

Stalling for time while Wammy prepared himself, L led Light through the parts of the main building the latter had never seen (nor would he ever see again, but that was a trifling matter, and this thought amused L as he noted Light obediently memorizing rooms and faces and activities with devoted vigor). The other counselors, Light was noticing with a sneer, wore matching shirts stamped with Wammy's logo in bright comforting colors. And, it seemed, every one of them stared after his companion with envy, awe, or both entwined in their vacant eyes. The mystery of this idolization was sliced apart inches further when Light was shown an indoor pool with a veritable water park attached to it. L dipped a dirty toe in the water as he explained to Light the need for physical activity to stimulate young minds in a toneless sort of voice that suggested total boredom.

"L!" screamed a voice from the far end of the pool. The shout was taken up by every child in the vicinity, and L's skinny ankles were clutched in pure hero-worship as kids swarmed him like bees around their queen. A bit too much shoving, a tad too much tugging, and L fell into the pool on a heap of children screeching with joy.

Light seized the opportunity at once.

A young girl no taller than his waist stood next to him looking unsure of herself, as if she didn't know whether to jump in and join the mad frenzy of bodies or spare herself the danger of drowning. He poked this tiny wunderkind on the shoulder. (At this point L managed to wiggle free and escape without a single pause to see how Light was faring.)

"Who's L?"

She stared it him with a blush, rubbing where he'd touched. "That's a stupid question. L's the best."

"At what?"

The girl, who's name was Edwidge, and who will never again appear in this story, thought. He was either stupid or L had told him nothing. If the latter, there had been reasoning she wouldn't try to match. So she became vague. "At everything. The best ever. Who are you?"

"I'm a counselor."

"Your shirt is a really pretty blue."

"Thank you," Light said through gritted teeth. "What do you mean by ever?"

Then Light tensed as a counselor-with-a-uniform suddenly appeared at his side, blank eyes reminiscent of something dead. "L requests your presence in the men's shower room," quipped this oddly androgynous person. "I'll lead you." Claws descended upon Light's arm, and the teenager was drug away from Edwidge and hauled off towards the south end of the pool with all the ceremony of disposing of an especially odorous bag of refuse. The counselor thrust his (her?) prize through a door, and there was L, fully clothed and dripping.

L's eyes widened slightly before he ripped off his sopping shirt and threw it at the wall. "Hurts, doesn't it?"

"Pardon?"

"Not having the answer."

"Who are you?"

"What you were told." L stepped out of his shorts.

"You don't know–"

"The best." His hands went for his boxers.

Light fumed as he stared at the ceiling. "Did you train them to say that?"

"What do you think?"

Light heard a zipper being tugged shut and finally snapped his head down to glare at his tormentor properly. "No. It's never what I think, it's what I know. This isn't a summer camp. You're training a secret army to shove into government positions or something. The kids in that craft room were quoting Marx in the original German. Just the power..." He swallowed hard, eyes growing dim as he fantasized. "You...you've..." Light faltered.

L's thumb hovered over his bottom lip, marring the smirk that was disturbing Light. "Go on."

"And the way all the kids worship you and the other counselors look at you like you're the best they've got, which means you're the smartest here or have already...done things and they respect you."

Yes, that must have been bitter to swallow. Light's own starry path had left a wake of admirers and for the first time he wasn't the center of attention, hadn't been the one turning heads or drawing out whispers. It must have been annoying in the extreme to be so obviously looked over, the irritant of it itching under the excitement of his new position.

"I'm guessing they reserve you to train the best children," was the brilliant brat's next theory.

"And?"

"I'm second best."

L shoved his hands in his pockets, but there was no bag of candy to wrap one hand around. "Why?"

"I'm working directly under the _best_." He did not hide the sarcasm.

"Perhaps I've chosen to keep a closer eye on you that way." L kicked the other parts of his wardrobe over to join the shirt. He'd changed into the exact same ensemble.

"Then why give me authority?"

"When did you ever have authority?"

Light blinked, wondering how he could even ask so idiotic a question. "Since I was hired. I read my contract. I have joint charge with you over several–"

"The paragraph before that, Yagami."

"I'm your subordinate."

"Yes, which means if I tell you to sit on your hands in a corner the entire time and if you move one finger you're under a breach of contract."

"But you wouldn't because the expense of hiring me would be wasted."

Did he really consider himself so valuable that he was taking L seriously? This was fascinating. L's thumbnail wandered between his teeth. "Why is it automatically an expense?"

Light choked down a bubble of rage. "It wouldn't be just monetary. You'd be wasting me. You should _exploit_ me."

Deciding that any more of this earnest narcissism would make him gag, L shambled over until the two were no more than a few inches apart. He flicked the upturned corner of Light's collar before murmuring, "But how much exploitation can you take?"

Light gaped.

L regretted his impulsiveness; Wammy was going to have a fit if his newest treasure was psychologically marred after barely two hours. But as if to spare L from giving the forthcoming explanation that touching the ridiculously expensive polo was nowhere near the sexual assault Light's expression was implying, a uniformed counselor appeared in the doorway.

"The Bugatti is waiting, L."

"Good," said L, eyes never leaving Light. "It's time to drive to the campsite."

"I thought this was the campsite." The word _campsite_ reeked of fires in pits and gathering wood. It suggested tents made of nothing but thin nylon and sleeping inside human-sized mesh pockets. _Campsite_ was closely linked to _bugs_, _smoke_, _discomfort_.

The over-chipper counselor had the nerve to titter. L ignored her. "No. We will be immersed in activities illegal in most countries and have found it best to conduct them in places people don't think exist. Those satellite maps you looked at were faked."

Had Light not felt defeated he may have replied with something witty and scathing. Instead, he chose to follow L.

It was half a million pounds. It would be worth it.


	2. IN WHICH THE BRILLIANT CHILDREN SHOW

"Packed as much as a woman!" laughed Wammy as he shoved Light's dozen suitcases and satchels and other frippery into the backseat of the Veyron. "But don't worry, Matilda here can handle it!" He gave the car an affectionate pat before cuffing Light upside the head. "Daft boy won't survive the first night," he muttered as he climbed over the driver's door.

"He can hear you," said L blandly from his exceedingly comfortable position as shotgun. A single bag lay at his feet while Light was left to be squished by the majority of his possessions. "And he doesn't like to be touched." L blithely ignored the look Light flashed him at that.

"But he packed as much as a woman! What's your percentage that he has both a speedo and a pair of trunks in there, eh, L? Hear that, Light? Good! Now!" He dramatically turned the key in the ignition. "We shall commence our foray into the very bowels of Gaia herself!"

L watched Light giggle maniacally into his sleeve from the rearview mirror.

The giggling was stopped short when they began hurtling down a narrow gravel road at upwards of 160mph. Wammy particularly enjoyed turning at the very last second, which would send Light hurtling into either his door or his suitcases. Before the journey's end he was already counting bruises, totally disoriented, nauseous, and hoping the old man would suffer a fatal collision on the return trip.

"Out," bellowed Wammy once they came to a halt in a wide clearing. He turned in his seat to glare at Light through narrowed eyes. "Treat the goddess kindly and she won't bite, you wicked, wicked boy." Then he clapped L on the shoulder. " "Methinks the tent to the northwest will do for you boys nicely. And Light, if I hear that you've disobeyed my finest detective in _anywhichway_ I'll have you chained to his side, is that statement pellucid enough for the smarmy little brain tucked in that gorgeous head of yours?"

Light only cowered behind his laptop case and pretended he was the only person in existence.

As for L, he disregarded Wammy's wink to dutifully consider the size of Light's wrists.

- - -

It has been previously stated that the facade of Wammy's Sunshine Daydream Camp-Camp shown to Light was his ideal for connecting deeply with the environment. He also appreciated the outdoors through the various sports he played—when connected with competition, aggression and uniforms he didn't quite mind a mouthful of trimmed grass. But to venture forth into spaces where no city lights hued the blackest of nights tints lighter than they would have been, where creatures with teeth dwelt to provoke, where comfortable luxuries Light considered the barest of necessities were forsaken—it was enough to make the spoiled thing twitch.

Of course L and Wammy had taken this into account heartily and the place where Light was to dwell for the next three months had been designed with him in the foremost of their thoughts.

There were no cabins. There were no tents. Instead, they had implemented the appalling spawn of the two: the platform tent, a structure with a shingled roof and canvas sides set on a raised wooden, oh, wouldn't you guess it, platform. These horrors of architecture were totally vulnerable while appearing decent to a passerby's eye. Three had been erected inside the grassy clearing. These were neighbored with a single latrine and an extensive square of dirt with a fire pit in the middle.

Upon reaching the tent Wammy had so kindly directed them to Light found that L's belongings were already inside the space. Coolers were carefully stacked underneath a hammock that took up a full third of the area with a single rolling suitcase to the side of the coolers. A metal cot with a thin pallet made of plastic was, Light saw, the only option he'd been provided with. The air mattress he brought was going to save him.

L plopped into the hammock at once, curled sideways with his thumb at his lips. Light was poking about near the floor.

"There are no electrical outlets, Light. If you would like I can have Wammy bring batteries for any devices you have that could use them."

"That's fine," Light snapped, contenting himself with ripping his air mattress out of its package.

"They'll be here in an hour."

Delicately hiding his anger, Light began pumping.

Exactly four minutes and twenty-six seconds before the arrival of those who were to transform Light's world forever the tent became something livable. L's side had not changed. Light's side seemed to now be a condensed archival of his entire life.

The metal cot was covered with air mattress and Egyptian cotton sheets and eiderdown comforter in a tasteful steel color, with a ratty old thing stuffed quickly inside the pillowcase that may or may not have been a baby blanket. The ramifications of the baby blanket were amusing L to no end as he watched Light from behind the screen of his laptop. The seventeen year-old had hung a small mirror on one of the wooden side supports next to a sheet strung across a corner to suggest a triangle-shaped changing room. A row of shoes (hiking boots, steel-toed boots, flip flops in three different colors and two pairs of sneakers) were neatly lined at the foot of the bed near an opened suitcase whose contents revealed more polos sorted by depth of saturation. The homey finishing touches were a straw mat on the floor at the entrance, a few photos tacked next the mirror, and a bottle of febreze lying on a rough-hewn bedside table procured from another tent.

L now had every reason to believe that Light was secretly a twelve year-old girl.

Before he could suggest this fact in a mildly acerbic way the unmistakable roar of Matilda blasted through the air as the Bugatti appeared in the distance. They watched the beast of metal follow it previous tracks and pull onward until the car was directly lined up with the open tent flaps.

"I've brought them!" Wammy hallooed as he rolled down his window. "I see Light is still here! Excellent! Now you savages, leave Matilda before I beat your hides bloody."

Without any further ado, three beings tumbled out of the car and raced inside.

Light had been prepared. He had been told that he was to meet the campers, had been told that they were geniuses—that they required Light's devotion and he was expected to teach them.

But he had not expected _Mello_.

And now, faced with long thighs, infinitesimal shorts, and a tight little smirk, neurons had almost ceased firing.

"What's that?" snapped the blonde angel himself, pointing a rather dirty finger at the strangely preened creature in his idol's living quarters.

"Light Yagami."

"Whoa." Mello's eyes, as those of his two companions, roamed over Light and his accompanying property with a bit of shock. Though Light had yet to open his mouth the three mutually concluded from the visuals provided that L was either daft or smitten for taking in this pampered, sheltered thing reeking of DEET and sunscreen.

Feeling that his presence was enough of an introduction, Mello bounded over suitcases to rip the photographs off the post in handfuls before curling up next to Light and sweetly demanding each grisly crime scene to be explained in perverse detail. Matt plopped next to him with DS in hand after grunting something congenial in Light's direction, and after sinking to the floor at Light's feet Near took a handful of legos out of his pocket and began to act out Light's eventual demise through much popping off of little yellow heads. The main protagonist of this adventure mutely watched the four with growing irritation. Or rather, he watched Mello take full, cool-eyed advantage of Light's dazed adoration, prying for information until Light was detailing the security the Japanese police force gave their databases. (Not that Mello cared in the least about the subject—he was much more interested in discovering what triggers best manipulated. Biting his lip whilst tucking back a random strand of gold silk would lead to unfettered, exuberant divulgences, for starters.) After five minutes of Light's rambling Mello had learned everything he wanted for the moment and rose to languidly stretch, emitting a rumbling purr stolen directly from L.

"...and then I was holding the tampon after smearing the...where are you going?" Light's ego returned and carved through the Mello-induced haze. He was not _dismissed_, especially not while listing his most embarrassing moments. Exactly how had they moved to that topic? He couldn't quite remember—it may have been at the time Mello decided to lean over and expose an elegant stretch of spine tight against his black shirt.

"I'm hungry," Matt volunteered.

"Yes," Near agreed, dropping Light's hairdryer. The three looked at L.

"Go unpack," was the brusque order. "We'll start making food in half an hour."

Mello leapt from the tent with Matt in tow while Near followed in their hyper wake. Once Mello's shouts were a fair distance away L sat up in his hammock and plucked absently at a shredded toenail. "They won," he announced.

Light glared. "What?"

"Name one of them."

L watched Light fish-mouth uncomfortably. It was then Light noticed that half of his suitcases were now open and the contents in disarray. "What–"

"Near decided that Mello's psychoanalysis wasn't broad enough."

"I didn't even—" But that had been the point. Light shut his mouth and flopped onto his back, glaring at the ceiling. "They won."

A sullen silence followed that L broke once he figured the internal tantrum had subsided. "Would you like to meet the rest of the staff, Light?"

"There–oh–of course."

Unfortunately, progress towards that goal was impeded by the situation that confronted the two once they left their tent. Not only was Matt tied to the grille over the fire pit, stripped to the waist, Mello was poised over the boy with what appeared to be a can of lighter fluid.

"–EVER HIDE MY GHIRARDELLI OR GODIVA AGAIN–" Mello was screaming.

Light saw this as a chance to not only exercise his excellent skills at moderation and peacemaking but to ogle Mello further. He sprinted quickly towards the two as graceful as any lithe beast of the savannah with L following at a walk.

Mello, plan going perfectly, pulled out the gun he'd stuffed into his shorts and pointed the weapon at Light once Light was close enough that his face would be blown off. "BUGGER OFF, I'M-A-GAY."

Light flushed. He noticed that Near was perched on a chair made from a thick slice of log and, for some reason, his embarrassment deepened, most likely because Near's expression seemed to convey that he thought Light a twat. Further agony was spared by L.

"Mello, desist at once."

The grip on the gun loosened. "What's with this guy anyway?" He waved the gun in Light's face.

L blinked. "Please tell me you did not create this scene simply to get my attention."

Mello was most definitely pouting now. Light bit the inside of his cheek to keep from violating the boy and with that alerted Mello to a chance at victory. The blonde threw the gun to the ground and prostrated himself at Light's feet. This gave Light a most excellent view of parts of Mello he'd had yet to scrutinize and _Yes, whatever you'd like_ was already on Light's tongue when Mello began to wail.

"Liiiiiiiiiggghhhh–"

"We're leaving," said L abruptly. The detective made is if to pluck at Light's shirt but his hand fell back awkwardly; three others (Light was still staring at Mello) took note. "Now. Light has to meet the rest of the staff. Mello–untie him."

Mello glared but reached for the bungee cords as the two older boys turned towards a path at the edge of camp.

Matt grinned up at his captor. "Let's go catch something and put it in his stuff."

"Yeah!"

Near huffled a little noise that may have been contentment.

- - -

Light was still too discomfited by his total lack of control over his charges to speak during the walk (as after all, that had been the test, to see what he would do, and L's comment of getting attention almost seemed like sympathetic slander once Light pieced together the camper's real motive). The sight of an ancient one-level lodge cheered him slightly. Every person he met with an intelligence less than his own was another victim he could bend and mold at will. That they had already been preconditioned to his methods was not something he considered.

The building, a mess hall, had no merit other than _usable_. There was a kitchen and small dining hall adjoining with rickety long tables and benches. The entire place had a heavy, musty odor distilled by the scent of something delightful being made. Loud shouts from the kitchen drew the pair into that area, where three people were preparing what would be the next day's breakfast.

It was three women, three different flavors of blonde. At the sight of Light there was a communal gasp.

"IS THAT HIM?" The one dressed mostly in black and hot pink chiffon and little else ran over and attached herself to Light's waist. "WHAT'S HIS NAME L HE'S SO PRETTY CAN WE KEEP HIM I MIXED ALL THE VANILLA SYRUP FOR TOMORROW L AREN'T YOU PROUD OF ME WHAT'S HIS NAME?"

L peeled the girl off of Light's terrified person. "Misa, what did the psychologist tell you about touching?"

"NOT TO," she replied, gripping L's wrist.

Light tried to hide a smirk as L wrenched the white-knuckled fingers from his arm. "Yes. Now obey."

She acquiesced, settling to obnoxiously run her fingers through her hair. "BUT L YOU DIDN'T ANSWE–"

"His name is Light."

The girl gasped so hard she choked. "THAT'S SO PRETTY I'M GOING TO NAME ONE OF MY BABIES LIGHT ISN'T HE PRETTY L I WANT TO MARRY HIM IS HE LIKE YOU LIKE A GENIUS TOO LIKE SOMEONE NEW HERE SO PRETTY..." She stared up at Light with worship in her wide, wide, wide toffee eyes.

"Hi," Light said.

The girl swooned, tipping into L's side. He bounced her off gently with a bump of his hip.

"LIGHT SPOKE TO ME L DID YOU SEE THAT I WANT TO KISS HIS PRETTY NOSE AND HIS PRETTY EYES AND HIS PRETTY MOUTH AND HIS PRETTY HANDS _AND L HE'S BLEEDING_," she shrieked, her hands disappearing underneath L's shirt as she clenched his abs. "L GET HIM A BANDAID I WILL DON'T MOVE BYE I LOVE YOU LIGHT." With that, she was running into a different section of the hall. The other two women were laughing, one behind her hand and the other blatant.

"I'm Halle," said the more respectful one, still hiding a grin. "I'm the head cook."

"Wedy," said the other. She gave Light a smile that was all acid-red lipstick and teeth.

This was more normal, and Light switched into perfect mode. "Hi," he waved with a sweet little smile that Misa would have licked off his face had she seen it. "I'm glad to meet..." The sentence trailed into annoyance as Hal ignored him and began talking to L, Wedy turning away to beat something with a hammer.

"LIGHTLIGHTIGOTCHERBANDAIDSRIGHTHERE. I'M SO GLAD I COULD DO THIS!" She beamed as she began unwrapping bandaids covered with day-glo dancing skeletons. The cut, a tiny little thing on the back of his hand, had already scabbed hours ago. She plastered five bandaids over it and finished by grabbing his deltoid.

"Oooooooooh you're so strong," she whispered, batting eyelashes and running a finger along his jaw.

"Amane," L snapped.

Misa flinched. "Sowwy," she simpered. She contented herself with a thorough eye-rape. Light blushed and unconsciously drifted closer to L, who noticed the action with a slight raise of his eyebrows before turning back to Halle. "We'll be leaving now. And tell Mikami we won't need him for three more weeks."

"Will do. Here!" She grabbed a box off the counter and shoved the thing into Light's chest. He took it, staring at the packages and containers inside. Hot dogs? Disgusting. Light followed L out, balancing the box on one shoulder and ignoring all of Misa's comments related to his strength, physique, and perfectly toned gluts.

"We're going to get married," she sighed once Light's back had finally disappeared from her vision.

Hal gave her a cool stare before grabbing the walkie-talkie stuck deep in her apron pocket. "They've just left," she said into the receiver.

_Thanks, Hal,_ erupted Mello's voice from the tiny thing. Then a startled cry came from somewhere in the background and Halle winced as Mello's walkie-talkie was dropped, voices still floating to her end.

_What do you mean she's yours? Oh shut up, it's Matt that's got the real crush on her cause _he actually likes girls_–_There was auditory evidence of a scuffle and then everything went dead.

Back on the camper's end, Near chewed his bottom lip and stared somewhere past Mello, who'd pinned the boy to the floor of Near's tent. "You're hurting me," he said by way of conversation when it became apparent Mello was content with sitting on his chest and luridly staring. In reply Mello whacked Near's hand away from his hair, grin growing ever more lurid by the second. Near propped himself up on his elbows and dared the other further with a leer that was almost as much of a pout, and before the situation could progress into even more interesting territory there was, of course, an immediate interruption.

"You guys," Matt drawled from the tent opening, eyes fixed on rubbing his goggles clear of mud, "I finished putting the itch powder in all of his twenty-_seven_ polos. Unless the raccoons remember us it'll take like a day or two to get new ones."

"'Kay!" Mello chirruped. "Now lets see if the hornet's nest is still in that tree!"

- - -

When L and Light returned the three were missing and declared themselves "exploring" when questioned after showing up. Mello and Matt's legs were covered in mud up to their knees and Near's clothes had been peppered with brambles, but L thought their explanation sufficient. Besides, everyone was starving.

Alas, the grueling experience that was dinner, both prep and actual consumption, was horrific for most involved. Consider the prep. A meal that was to consist of hot dogs, chips, and several varieties of scrumptious side dishes requiring actual work was mutilated by Light. Not only had he never cooked in the open air, he had never _cooked_, having a slave of a mother who considered it almost her duty to wipe Light's mouth for him after each bite. The hot dogs were charred, the potato salad experienced an unwelcome addition of mandarin oranges when Light toppled the can trying to save marshmallow fluff from certain, ash-covered death, and on the whole the seventeen year-old managed to make L reconsider his decision to create an extra campsite to see how Light would adapt. Because of every disaster involved L cynically determined that Light may have been faking his ineptitude and neither lifted a finger or made a comment. If it was a plot, he may as well starve with the rest of the campers, and L had never planned on eating beyond what he had brought with and was therefore spared. The rest were forced to choke down what they could, refusing to look at Light other than to offer up his services for cleanup, which he agreed to (and how could he refuse with Mello flush against his side after the blonde fed him the one mandarin orange not polluted by mayonnaise?)

The aftertaste was souring in his mouth when he was left with nothing but a dying fire and a mountainous pile of dishes to wash. Yagami was not afraid of nature, or of the dark. After all, there was too much humanity present, and too much light. Flashlights and lanterns bobbed inside Mello and Matt's tent (and Light could tell now that the screams and manic laughing coming from that direction were going to be his lullaby until they had activities that would wear those two out completely). Near's tent was dark, but Light had seen him shuffle into Light's own tent.

No, Light was not afraid, but growling noises kept emanating from the tree line to his right and he was getting a tad nervous. His fear escalated with the volume level of the scratches and snarls coming ominously closer with each swipe of his scouring pad until Light was so pumped with foreboding L's smile at his return was almost comforting. L radiated cold, dispirited practicality. Bogeymen could not exist around him.

"Please go back to your tent, Near," L told the boy with a helpful poke.

Light waited till the tent flap had closed till he spoke, trying to keep from shaking. "There was something weird growling out there."

"Oh." L shoved his laptop under his pillow. "I should have told you."

"I don't remember wolves being indigenous to this area."

"It's not a wolf."

_It's_. Light slunk onto his bed.

"We have a ranger that tends the grounds."

"Most rangers do," replied Light acidly.

L ignored the rudeness, noting how hard Light was breathing. "Did you see him?"

"No."

"It wouldn't matter if you did, really."

"Why?"

"He looks just like me."

"You have an imbecilic twin who wanted to share in your glory so you gave him a pity job of mucking around in the dirt?"

L almost smiled. "No. He wants to become me. And yes, he is a bit...it's not safe," he finished suddenly. "I'm glad you came inside. I should have stayed out there with you, but I wanted to see if he would show up the first night."

"...I was _bait_."

"Yes."

Light had nothing to say to this as every response involved physical pain. He also thought L might be teasing him and said ranger was some form of snipe or Light would have behaved differently to this exquisitely odd and alarming piece of information. L nibbled the heads off gummy bears as he watched Light slink behind his changing curtain, slink out again in nothing more than a pair of pajama pants and crawl under his covers. The teen, who's bed was perpendicular to L's, rolled his head back to peer up at L with intentionally beseeching doe eyes. "Aren't you tired? I always go to sleep at ten each night." And there was no way this freak could expect him to keep the sleep schedule evident by the panda lines beneath each eye.

L began rocking, setting chin on knees. "I have other responsibilities besides my duties here and the only way I can fulfill both is by four hour naps every thirty-six hours."

Light managed to sound both sympathetic and victimized. "Oh." And then, "Are you going to turn off that light?"

"No, unless it bothers you."

"Yes. Sorry."

They were suddenly plunged into some abyss. Used to the constant artificial dusk of a huge city Light felt trapped, he could only feel; his eyes strained to catch something but there was nothing but pitch. Then light flared up again and L began typing.

One of Light's less endearing idiosyncrasies was requiring absolute silence in his immediate surroundings in order to sleep. He closed his eyes, preparing himself for a torture that would last three months. He would adapt. Lifestyle would be refashioned, the culture of camping would sink into his bones, eventually he'd get used to the freak. With these comforting bits of an almost-mantra Light reflected on the day and assessed himself via the mental checklist he'd created before arriving.

_Pry into the mind of his fellow counselor in order to gain advantage _

The passion for sweets could be used against L, certainly ...And that was all Light could think of. He really knew nothing else other than the obvious. Quite galling, that.

_Create a bond between self and campers in order to make them more loyal to him than L_

That had also failed. He was more loyal to Mello than to his own sensibilities and his knowledge of the other two was slim. The redhead was some introverted gaming type (did the goggles hint at cyberpunk? steampunk? adolescent insecurity?) and the one made of fluff was also introverted and evidently had some rapport with L. He preferred his own tent over sharing with the others, which was something else to mull over. So really, he knew nothing of them as well.

_Gain an inside knowledge of the camp and its dealings in order to climb to the top_

Misa could be used, that was for certain. Oh, and there was supposedly some ferocious human living in the woods catching woodland creatures with its teeth who wanted to be L.

He tried to remember what sort of insurance policy the camp had made him sign, but L's clicking was grating. It was all he could hear, and analytical thought was finished.

_Click tap click tip tip tip tap tip click. _

Half a million pounds and an empire of geniuses.

He closed his eyes.

- - -

_Click tap tap tip click. Tip. _

"There's a bat on the rafter thing," Light observed some five hours later. It may have been shadows. After all, anything he tried to keep focus on for more than three seconds without blinking began to mutate.

"Yes, there is." _Tip. Slurp clickclickclickclickclickclick. _

"Are there bats in all the tents?"

"No." _Sip. _

"Are you done yet?"

"You won't suffocate if you put the covers over your head, Light-kun," L said in Japanese. Light hardly noticed the language switch in his exhaustion. Fifteen feet to the west Mello tried to engage Matt in a screaming contest and Light began twitching. "I...there's a bat," he tried again.

Suddenly L's face was over Light's, staring down with an empty cupcake wrapper dangling from his fingers. "Would you like me to get the bat out of the tent, Light-kun?"

Light nodded. Then he yelped when L jumped onto his bed (freak-monkey-panda-_thing_) and plucked the bat down with his bare hands, snapping the neck in one movement before tossing vermin and wrapper out of the rear flap and climbing back into his hammock, where he resumed typing.

"Goodnight, Light-kun."

Now believing that anything was possible, Light cocooned beneath the covers and drifted off.

* * *

Thank you to EVERYONE who reviewed on the last chapter! I was not expecting such applause-encouragement-luff, so thank yoouuu! You fill me with warm fuzzies.

Misa's insanity is way too much fun to write. I hope there was enough bald hinting at what the ships are in this chapter, though it's going to be quite awhile (but don't worry, I won't torture) before Light realizes that L, is, in fact, the one. If there's anyone pouting over Matt being straight, things are going to work out. In a good way.


	3. IN WHICH ENTANGLED BLISS IS NOT

Light woke chipper and lucid at precisely six in the morning, shivering at the chill that had descended on his bed and person, before hopping out to grab an undershirt to wear until he could shower properly. He felt disgusting (there was that odd morning chill that he suspected was _dew_, which belonged on flora _only_, and he reeked of sweat and woodsmoke).

L was perched in the same position with a thermos and the sharp smell of peppermint wafted through the tent. "We have a half hour before leaving for the mess hall to eat, Light."

"We're not..." Light gestured towards the fire pit.

"No. The campers are only required to cook seven meals per week minimum." He dropped a sugar cube into his tea and watched it dissolve. "I need you to wake the other three, please."

A sudden fantasy of Mello being drug from sleep with tender, indulgent kisses left Light swallowing several times before he nodded vaguely and stumbled out the tent door. Fantasy was frustrated when he found Matt already awake, lying prone with sleeping bag kicked down, DS chirruping in his hands. A white-blond head was snuggled into his hip.

"Near slept with you?"

Matt continued to pretend Light wasn't present.

"Matt," mewled a muffled voice from under the lump of blankets at Matt's feet, "make it go away."

The situation was this: Matt had passed out from eating a fermented jar of strawberry jam they'd dug out from under the platform sometime around 3:30AM. Deciding that such an action was abominably dull, Mello had taken a sojourn of the surrounding woods until he'd frightened himself with a mental rehearsal of every horror movie he'd seen involving vegetation and Things That Lurked And Killed and had fled back to the comforting warmth of Matt's unconscious body. Said body was annoyingly claimed by Near, and Mello wondered whether it would be worth the effort to drag either out to the clearing to leave for the fell beasties still livid in his imagination. However, exhaustion had overcome him at that point and Mello had fallen asleep as soon as his head hit Matt's knees.

Upon waking up Matt decided their sleeping arrangements should revert to last year's as quickly as possible.

"He's not going away," Mello continued to whine. An angry huff and the pile of blankets wiggled.

"We have to eat," Light tried again. "L sent–"

Mello's head popped up. "Hahaha, remember Richard?"

Matt and Mello erupted into giggles.

"Hey, baby, baby, lover," Mello began in a breathy voice while Matt continued giggling, "baaaaby, love love lover..." They snickered until the inside joke became boring and the giggling quieted; Mello nestled himself between the two others and began snoring and Matt shoved the GBC under his pillow before imitating the other two.

Light's wolfish smile was frightening. Idiotic of them to close their eyes, yes? They'd made manifest that vocal pleas would do nothing and it was time for aggressive action. Sidling up to the bed quietly, movements almost silent, Light studied their sleeping positions and decided Near was to be the end to justified means. It was quite a pity—it was almost soothing to watch him sleep. A pity, but the shock on his face as he was thrown to the floor was worth it. A congratulatory victory was Light's when the injured gasp coming from Near was all it took for to Mello to rip away from the bed and graze Light's neck with the muzzle of his gun.

"You do _not_ touch him."

Light cracked his neck in a graceful ripple, smirking. He hadn't quite expected this reaction, but it was close enough. "You're _up_."

Before either Near or Mello could escape back to bed Light grabbed the gun from Mello's fingers before aiming at Near's hand, fingers splayed on the floor as the young boy supported himself. "Mello, if you aren't in my tent in five seconds I'll shoot." _One_, he thought.

A nervous giggle was halfway stifled. "Oooo look–"

Light fired.

Mello was still screaming when Near clutched an entirely whole hand to his chest, seething and swearing at Mello in half a dozen languages, and then Mello was dragging Near out and across the grass to shove the other into L's hammock, the screaming ending only when Matt and Light materialized looking as collected as can be expected–Light was a trifle heady from the power he'd acquired and Matt was already planning war.

"That's a first," L told him as he ran gentle fingers up and down Near's back, looking almost amused. "Usually my subordinates have to get me."

Mello coughed up a vicious diatribe that no one really heard except for Near, but that was the point. Near took it for the apology it was.

- - -

Now, after finally proving his dominance, Light's euphoric burbling wasn't to be quenched on their way to breakfast and he was still outlining his plan for world peace under a hegemony when he began eating the pancakes drenched in raspberry syrup handed over by Misa. He and L were sitting alone at one table on the opposite end of the room from the other three.

L glanced at camera #45.6, almost seeing Watari's disproving finger-waggle. It was time to remind Light who held supremacy.

"–and every member of my staff would get cream puffs for Christmas," he was still babbling, a trickle of syrup at the edge of his mouth too metaphorically blood-like for L's comfort as he watched Light cut another piece of earth-shaped pancake. "But my secretary will have had those before–"

"Light."

"–and I'll have to get larger ones because my connections with the FBI–"

"Light."

"–because Area 51 was part of my hypothesis–"

"Light-kun," L purred.

"You–please don't call me that."

"I'm going to answer the questions you had the first day."

To Light, this translated as, "I'm going to offer up my weaknesses and give you the needed information to stage a takeover," as L knew it would, and was unsurprised when Light dropped his fork.

"Yes?"

"I solve the world's problems." He then listed off a select number of accomplishments that left Light more pale and still with each summary finished until L was quite certain Light's legs were falling asleep with how tense he was holding his body.

"That's..." No. He could not be intimidated. Light chose to cough and ask a question instead of indicating he had the brief craving to worship the detective like every other person in the place. "And you're training the campers to serve under you?"

"No. I am training them to surpass me."

"And why am I here?"

"Not satisfied with your own supposition?"

Light remained silent, eager, waiting for the rest of the puzzle pieces to be snapped in place.

"You're not second best. But we've watched you for long enough that we wanted to bring you here to see if you could be useful, maybe." He took a bite of cantaloupe as that settled into the egoist's brain. "We've been observing you for two years now," L continued, watching Light's face. "At least closely. Five years in total."

"Since–"

"Since you anonymously submitted that dissertation on China's foreign policy."

Light felt as if he'd somehow betrayed himself.

"We mostly watched your academic record." Which meant placing spies in the student body and inserting a teacher or two when they felt he wasn't being challenged enough, but L would never tell him that. Light would be fed knowledge, but L would portion it with the utmost care and watch the digestion.

"Ah," Light finally managed. "Were you the one overseeing it?"

So it fell back to his pride. The stalking would be forgiven if he'd been given L's attention. At least, L thought with a little stab of triumph, he seemed to recognize L for who he really was.

"When I saw fit," said L. "Your father was quite helpful when it came to bugging your room."

- - -

Fifteen tables down, Matt hooted into Mello's shoulder. "Did you see his _face_?"

"I love L," Mello whispered. "I love love love love love L."

"Demoralization of Light Yagami has commenced," Matt began to drone in a pseudo-serious voice. "Pwnage by L–"

"–I bet he tells him what I did with the von Weizsäcker case."

"I bet he doesn't," Near said around a polite-sized bite of egg on toast.

"Watch," Mello spat.

Every mote of Light's attention was focused with wide-eyed fury on L and in the process of listening (L was explaining that Light's roommates for his first year of college had all been cousins of any of the three in the kitchen) accidentally stabbed the table with his fork instead of hash browns. For a panicked minute Near and Matt thought Mello would choke to death after snorting food down the wrong pipe but with a hearty back-pounding from Matt all was righted and Mello continued staring with streaming eyes. "If I was a girl," he began, but Matt punched him in the side. "You're creepy, Mello."

"To have L's babies would be–"

"NEAR LOOK AT YOU YOU'RE SO KEE-YOOT I JUST WANT TO EAT YOU UP IN ONE BITE!" Misa threw her arms around the pajama-clad boy and kissed the top of his head. "MMMMMMMMMM I MISSED YOU SO MUCH. WHEN ARE YOU GOING TO LET ME DRESS YOU, BABY? Mmmmmm," she sniffed, kissing his head again, "you smell so good! Is that raspberry almond shampoo?" Misa had yet to learn that Near was no longer a child and pulled him onto her lap, ruffling curls with one hand and winking at Matt and Mello. "YOU GUYS ARE CUTE TOO, MY LITTLE M&M'S, DON'T WORRY!"

Mello pulled Near off the lolita with bared teeth. "Aren't you working right now?"

"NOPE I'M ON MY BREAK AND I WOOOUUULLLLLLD BE TALKING TO LIGHT BUT L AND HIM ARE SOOOOO BUSY RIGHT NOW, YOU KNOW?"

"He said he liked you," Mello lied with a bashful smile, as if he'd suddenly changed gender and was whispering forbidden secrets at a sleepover.

"LIKE REALLY HE DID MELLO I LOVE YOU THANK YOU SWEETIE I'VE NEVER BEEN SO HAPPY IN ALL MY LIFE." She dashed back into the kitchen, arms flapping like wings.

"Watch," Mello breathed, "I bet she crawls under the table and starts humping his leg."

Matt and Mello collapsed into helpless sniggering for the twentieth time since they'd started eating and Near took another bite and let his robot dance along the edge of his plate, fighting down a smile. The excitement of being at camp, being with _L_, would have systematically worn off by today and the rest of the stay would have been a battle of Near against them, with L as referee, but the materialization of Light had called some kind of truce. It was a bit foreign and Near felt shy at being witness to Matt speaking more than one sentence at a time and seeing Mello's facade lifted (apparently the liquid grace and silver-tongued utterances masked an entity that was all sharp angles, squawks, and a chocolate-smeared mouth). He was secretly thrilled to help form the new trio, which they could tell by the way he almost clung to their every interaction with him. If perfection was anything, it was lonely.

"So what are we gonna do?" Mello asked after showing Matt the proper way to blow chocolate milk bubbles out of one's nose.

"Tents," Matt groaned. He was still sore from sharing a bed meant for half a child with two full-sized ones.

"I mean to him."

Near poked Matt's shoulder, though he addressed Mello. "I have an idea."

Three heads hunkered down and the tactics were outlined in whispers.

- - -

Showering in the poolhouse left Light in emotional and physical torment. He'd been forced to stand in a dingy, mildew-stained stall with concrete flooring under a shower head that dribbled tepid hard water (Light hadn't known that there was any other kind but soft). To add to his misery he'd only gotten one brief glance at a mostly-naked Mello before the view was obscured by a completely naked L (who apparently lacked any sort of modesty) who told him that the hot water only lasted for five minutes, a fact confirmed before he'd finished the sentence. Light had screamed at the intense and sudden revelation.

And now, as they walked the trail back to camp, Light swinging his mother's mesh lingerie bag full of a dozen products, Matt and Mello were seeing who could best capture the essence of his shriek.

"No," laughed Mello, "it was higher, like–"

So it continued. Any sort of affection Light could have bestowed on Mello other than lust was snatched back. He was growing more fond of Near, actually. The boy was as evil as wet kleenex.

Then, _then_, his nape itched. Light scratched away without thinking. The second nails left skin the itch returned in intensity fourfold, and now his side was itching. The others had barely walked five feet before everyone stopped still at his scream of anguish.

Matt, Mello, and Near watched, mute, wondering if they should have measured the dosage as blood trickled down the enemy's bare trunk, the cursed polo thrown over a clump of milkweed.

L gave the others a single marked look before ushering Light back to the showers.

Light did _not_ want an escort. "You don't have to come with."

Plodding faster, L caught up until the two were walking in step. "I would go with them, but I have to make sure you're safe."

"Oh, right, the wild twin you made up to freak me out."

"Beyond Birthday is real, Light."

"It has a name like that?" Light stopped walking and stared at the detective.

"It's what he calls himself."

Still incredulous Light continued walking and L fell behind once more.

"What about the other campers? How do you know they aren't being attacked right now?"

"They have nothing to fear from B."

"So he's only interested in me because you are." Light missed the tiny frown and nod but didn't need to see it to know he was right. "I hate your campers," Light sniffed, returning to his former grievances. "Is it against my contract to retaliate?"

"No, but I would advise against it."

Light stewed for the rest of the walk and said nothing more until he was scrubbing with masochistic fervor at his wounds. "That's exactly why I'm here, though" he whined. "You're testing me and you need to know how I match up to your spawn." Light ripped the molding curtain back, his scowl disregarded by L, who was perched on the vanity sucking on malted milk balls. The scowl stayed firmly stitched in place as Light stalked to the vanity and L hopped off to give the irate teen room to, ah, that was conditioner he was squirting into his hand.

"I want to go home," Light continued, fingers running through his tresses. "This is not what I came here to do."

"But the expense of bringing you here would be wasted," was the cool reply.

Light decided to ignore L for the rest of the day. This conviction was broken at once when L trailed a calloused finger down Light's back parallel to a deeper scratch that had begun to bleed again.

"Don't _touch_ me."

L backed away safely to a corner where he studied the cracked cement and chewed on the offending finger. "Do you want some antiseptic?"

Could the situation be any more ridiculous? In Japan, everything had been predictable: tests and papers and teachers all handled easily with nothing varying excepting subject and degree of difficulty. It had been boring, but he had been in control. Presently he was at the mercy of perhaps the world's brightest individual and his minions and the most they wanted to do with him was abuse him with juvenile pranks. It was unbearable.

"No, I don't need antiseptic. I'm going back to the main buildings," Light snapped once he'd laced up his hiking shoes. "Wammy needs to be told exactly how you're letting them treat me. Don't follow me."

"I can't permit that."

The punch was born of an unrestrained burst of rage and missed its mark by a narrow margin as a result, but L was still sent crashing to floor, crimson flecking his shirt.

Light scoffed, tossed his head, and walked out.

Then he was on his face gasping for air from a kick to his back that hit with a satisfying meaty sound. L turned him over and pinned him down with freakish ease even with one hand yanking his shirt over his nose.

"Light, it was never you versus them."

Murder plans were quieted and Light listened, the pleasure of seeing blood seeping into that grimy white narrowing his focus. But L didn't continue, and Light reworked the meaning of the sentence in his head.

"Oh."

L wondered if signing his own death warrant by admitting that had been worth it as a maneuver but decided it was, as the boy would have figured it out eventually, but it may have been much too soon to reveal it. He hoped Light would mistake his shallow breathing for pain.

"But I thought..."

"I lied," L said, voice muffled behind his shirt.

Light was disturbed by the sympathetic calm in L's eyes. His anger returned in full force at the sudden baffling sensitivity from his torturer, because L was still winning the newly revealed game and now had the nerve to feel sorry for him.

"Get off me. I'll go back." _And I'll win this, I'll become you, I'll surpass you, I'll defeat you, I'll be the one with the power._

"One moment," sighed L, fishing inside a pocket. Light heard jangling, and L pulled out a chain with a definite metal loop on one end that twinkled in the shallow sunlight. "You disobeyed me," he explained as he snapped the handcuff around the teen's wrist and then attached the other loop to his own. "I wish you hadn't. This could be unbearable."

Now in a state of shock Light allowed himself to be gently tugged to standing and led down a trail behind the poolhouse he hadn't noticed.

- - -

Mello screeched and nursed a finger.

"Sorry," Matt mumbled. He shoved the extra bed into place with his foot while studying the screen of his DS (which was actually a tracking device, among other useful things). "They're heading towards the archery range? I think. I dunno. It won't go to the satellite feed screen..." He banged the precious tool against the bed frame. "Don't be so butthurt, Mello."

Mello stomped out, muttering something about finding Near.

The youngest camper was not in his tent. After a dizzying burst of panic Mello found him in L's tent running data on Light's laptop.

"Watcha doin'?" drawled the blond, wiggling next to him with a sugar-drenched smile.

Near blinked and wedged Starscream between them. "L's thinking in all of this is disconcerting."

"Mmmm," Mello hummed, and with that began chipping red polish off his thumbnail.

"Well." Near's cheeks turned the faintest of pinks and Mello slipped and scraped skin instead of enamel. "No, I mean...watch this." He shambled over and grabbed L's laptop, or at least the double he didn't mind them peeking into, and flipped it open. Watari's obsession, nay, mania to monitor every second of life he could stick a camera in front of came in useful quite often. The video Near opened buzzed to life after a crackle of white noise to show L and Watari. They had evidently just been watching collected feed of Light's interview.

_"Did you see the smirk as he turned to leave? It has a certain quality to it that borders on–"_

_"Sadism," offered L. _

_"Perhaps. We know he's seen satellite maps of the camp and that he researched the background information of every staff member we allowed to leak. He's been stalking the parents of the two year-olds."_

_"And you want me to work with him."_

_Wammy clasped his gnarled hands together in desperation. "Lawliet, this boy is quite possibly the most brilliant creation seen since yourself. We need his mind and he's willingly taken the bait. I have no idea why you've been opposed to this since the beginning."_

_"His obvious need for control is disturbing. It consumes him. I won't threaten this institution on my own whim because, in the long run, it's needed."_

_"Yes, yes," said Wammy impatiently. "But we're going to tame him. You're going to tame him. He's bored, Lawliet. He'll be surrounded by people who surpass him beyond any professor they could dig up over in Japan. This is fruit ripe for the plucking, and we'll cut out the bruises as we see fit." _

_L sighed and reached for his melting butter pecan ice cream. "If you insist. On one condition."_

_"You already know you can do whatever you would like with the boy."_

_L poked at a pecan. "Alright." He stood, shuffling past the man and his hundred LCD eyes before turning at the door. "Wammy?"_

_"Yes?"_

_"You have no idea what's coming." A smirk twisted around the silver bowl of the spoon and L was gone._

A square of chocolate snapped off, flecking Mello's thighs with crumbs. He was about to speak when Matt bounded into the room and gave his own summary (he'd seen this video several days prior).

"So you're L. You're nineteen and never been laid cause you work for a farty old coot that never lets you outside your precious little thinking room and then boom! There's someone who's finally on the same level as you and _he's really really hot_. But!" Matt waved his DS for emphasis. "He's narcissistic in all the pathological ways and would if pushed in the right direction be a threat to humanity and that's exciting enough to bring him here and trap him and study him and sex him up so he doesn't kill you and make your heirs slaves!"

Near almost gagged at the mental image of L sexing anyone up. "Matt," he winced.

Mello grabbed Starscream and pressed the robot to Near's mouth. "You know he's right. Now all we have to do is figure out if it's us against them or us against Light."

"Light," Matt decided instantly. "You guys, he's got him on a chain or something." Matt wedged himself between them and the three huddled over the console.

The view that camera #678 offered from its nook in a handy maple showed Light going fetal in the middle of the path with L dragging him along as if there was nothing unconventional about the situation.

"Glad they got their kinks worked out."

Mello sniggered and let Matt's slander stand.

"Here's what we'll do," said Near quickly before any more solemnity left and he'd have to fight to get his grand scheme across. "We'll keep Yagami under surveillance and trust that L's judgements so far have been correct and if any ulterior motivations L may have put us or Wammy's in danger then–"

"–_Coup d'état_," Mello whispered, blue eyes flashing bright.

- - -

Light was not cooperating, and L's arm was getting numb, the cuff rubbing his wrist raw. Really, this was futile surrender if Light was willing to destroy his clothes and get even more bloody being drug over gravel. L suspected that if he tried to assist Light with his gaping wounds (he'd had nothing to change into as all of his day wear had been contaminated, and was too anal to wear a shirt meant for sleeping) he'd be attacked, so L did nothing, though he'd cut the tour of the camp short to swing by the medical office for bandages.

"This is The Building," he explained, gesturing at a massive structure tucked into the treeline. "It's a major part of the _modus operandi_ for Nuke Day." As they had walked—or in Light's case, bumped over jagged rock—L had alluded to the various fixed celebrations and activities in the camp's calender that everyone celebrated as a whole but had not garnered much of a response, though Appreciation That The French Terror Is No Longer Upon Us Day, a part of Historical Appreciation Week, had brought a look of piqued disgust.

What could have brought about this change in Light's attitude?

It was, of course, the linked steel stretching no more than a yard between them.

Light's first vision of this entangled bliss was imagining himself sitting outside a bathroom stall while L defecated. Others had followed, including showering (trapped in that tiny stall, taking turns under the water, accidental brushes of wet skin against wet skin), sleeping (L, perched on Light's chest, typing and bleating out streams of gibberish, dribbling crumbs), etc., etc., until Light was determined to no longer take any willful action. His life was no longer his own.

"Light," L said, "we've reached the medical building. I'm going to let the nurse look at your cuts." It was, as L knew perfectly well, the nurse's day off. L shoved Light onto an examining table once no uniformed wench was to be found and procured a box of gauze and tape and other niceties which he smiled over before picking the ones best suited to Light's hundred scratches.

Light instantaneously decided with a total change of heart that letting L make any decision regarding himself was some power play snuffing Light's agency and Light would not give up any more control. The pale hand reaching for a bloody shoulder was slapped away.

"Light, I have no qualms about drugging you. Several of these could scar without attention and they all need to be cleaned." L uncapped a bottle of hydrogen peroxide. "If you had asked, I would have taken the chain off."

"You just wanted to see what I would do," Light said, voice dull. "And see how much control you have over me."

"Mmm," L hummed.

"I hate you. You'll pay for this." He tried to ignore the peroxide-soaked square of gauze heading towards his shoulder, where it hovered in L's hand until Light met his eyes.

"Of course," L replied. "But in allowing me to do this you must have some trust left."

As predicted, Light punched. L dodged it, grabbing Light's arm and flipping him onto his stomach in one twist. The syringe was in a vein before Light could counter and out before he'd tensed enough to snap the needle.

L began splashing peroxide on Light's back straight from the bottle.

- - -

Yagami regained consciousness right before a humid dusk. The effects of the drug had left him with no memories of being carried back to the site or being laid onto his bed, though he had been awake and chattering happily about a school play in which he'd been the lead, nor did he remember Watari coming and replacing his laundry with a clean identical set, and he would have been delighted to see the three campers berated, but he was out cold for that last scenario.

He gave himself a thorough self-examination once he was fully awake. His scratches were clean and the larger ones bandaged. He could find no other needle marks other than the one in his neck. His head was still a bit woozy, but that seemed normal enough.

And, most importantly, there was no chain. L wasn't even inside the tent.

Did L really think himself so omnipotent? Was it going to be mind game after mind game, L unleashing new tortures just to see how Light would react? His profession was ripping scenarios, behaviors, _people_ apart, and Light refused to be torn wide. The next advance, of course, was to act in a way that L would not predict. So Light peered out of the tent flaps in hopes of locating his foe and—yes, there he was, _roasting marshmallows _with the brats. He most likely thought that Light was still sleeping, would wake just as recalcitrant (or compliant, now that the chain was gone) and they'd resume their battle of wits. But Light wanted to take preliminary action. He was sure L's laptop was encrypted; that would hardly yield personal information even if he could hack it.

No, what he needed was someone who knew L, someone who had, for thirteen years, tried to emulate him.

So leaving the tent from the back, Light strolled into the woods in hopes of finding B.

* * *

The raspberry almond shampoo was actually Matt's. (It smells pretty androgynous, btw. But yummy androgynous.)

Why yes, L was trying to taste Light when he was chewing on his finger. It wasn't habit/nervousness.

Wammy's only annoying-crazy for Light's benefit. And I've made L only nineteen in this, which is why his thumb is not The Chosen One when it comes to appendages in his mouth, and he doesn't only drink coffee and has uh, a scheduled sleeping pattern.

OH GUESS WHAT REVIEWS MAKE ME WRITE MORE AND MAKE CHAPTERS COME FASTER.

LOVE TO ALL WHO READ/REVIEW.

AND YEY WE GET TO MEET MY CRACKIFIED VERSION OF BB IN THE NEXT ONE.


	4. IN WHICH LIGHT TRIES AND FAILS AWFULLY

Frantic puffing and the flames engulfing Near's marshmallow only flared brighter.

"You're impossible." Mello leaned over and annihilated the mini inferno with one short _poof_. Then he plucked off the burned portion leaving the sticky, melty white center for Near. Matt had once pointed out that this ritual was like that of any ancient married couple picking apart each other's food and had received a black eye for giving voice to a truth so obvious. Mello happily crunched his ash-flavored crust and Near swallowed white goop and Matt wiggled his eyebrows at both, not minding that he was blatantly ignored. Once Mello started reddening (oh, so he _had_ noticed) Matt turned back to his DS.

"Uh, L, Yagami's in the woods."

L visibly stiffened.

Near blinked. "You didn't think he'd try to find him this soon?"

"Near, please don't speak." L popped in another marshmallow, wiped his hands on his jeans, and stood. "I'll need that, Matt." L snapped open his cell.

"He's close to the mews," Matt said as he handed the DS over.

"Thanks. Mello, stay here." With that, L disappeared into the trees. "Watari, I need you to pick me up on the south road..."

"Fine then," Mello growled at L's diminishing form, "go save your princess all by yourself, GET MAULED BY B FOR SOMEONE WHO–"

"Miha_el_," drawled Matt.

Mello decided that the best use of the adrenaline coursing through his veins was kicking Matt in the ribs. Near watched them wrestle around the fire pit until Mello bashed his face into a log when Matt flipped him. The battle continued after a brief spell of rushed _I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry_'s and Mello staring into nothing, and Mello won by forcing Matt's jaws open and letting his bloody nose drip into the gamer's mouth.

Near looked appalled at such a victory and that was 65 percent of the reason why they did it.

- - -

After two hours of aimless wandering Light was lost, exasperated, and had the full intention of dying in the woods to spite L. It had been his own decision to footle through the forestry half-naked and encounter brambles and swarms of insects and spiderwebs that didn't catch the moonlight until one's face was halfway through them, and he wouldn't complain about that, but he was irked that Beyond wasn't in this area of the camp. Growing nauseous from hunger Light turned onto a gravel road that must, eventually, lead back to one he was familiar with.

Oh, there was the archery range.

And there in the distance was L, shuffling along as if finding lost counselors was the dullest thing he could ever be burdened with. In the darkness his white shirt stood out like a flag of surrender.

"That took awhile," Light yelled. He waited, letting L catch up to him.

"I told you," L said, looking almost exasperated, "to never go anywhere by yourself. And you would have learned nothing from B. Maybe how to best inflict pain on others–" the tip of his thumb disappeared into that mouth "–but not what you were looking for. I trusted you when I took off the handcuffs and I shouldn't have." The melancholic sympathy that glittered behind his onyx eyes Light ignored in barely checked self-control. So Light said nothing, keeping himself obedient to the plan he'd formed in case this happened, hands thrust into pockets and toeing at the gravel like any lectured child.

"Even though you're safe with me Beyond is most dangerous at night and I'd like to get back to camp as quickly as possible." L began walking back towards the direction he'd come from.

"The campsite is south-west and that's north-west."

L stilled and turned to look at Light with a shy little smile. "You're very pretty, Light-kun."

Light was chilled to his marrow, watching the smile grow wider, and wider, and wider...

Before a ploy could even surface in Light's panicking mind Beyond Birthday tackled him and punched randomly until Light lay beneath him in a quivering, bloody wreck. Then B picked Light up and Light, somehow through the pain, remembered that L didn't smell like strawberries. L had a clean, sharp, androgynous smell, and he didn't walk as hunched as B did, and L had a mole on the inside of his wrist...

Too full of self-hatred to speak, Light kept silent. B's grip was going to bruise and unless he willingly desired more pain there was no way Light was going to attempt an escape. Why had he wanted to run, for the briefest second? Instinct, came the realization. That, and naked fear. Beyond's smile was going to haunt every nightmare.

"Where are we going now?"

"The Building," answered B, ripping off the cowry shell bracelet Light had bought in the camp's gift store.

"What are you going to do to me?" He couldn't bring himself to look at the face that was L's and not L's (it was broader, and the eyes had a sheen to them that varied between pooled blood and dark chocolate; it made Light's stomach convulse).

"Make you happy like he would."

"How?" Light pretended his voice wasn't shaking.

"Make you happy. He hasn't made you very happy but he wants to."

"I think it would make him happy if you let me walk."

"No, he'd be happier if you ran away from me." The cracked smile showed too many teeth and Light grew more nauseous.

Once they reached The Building B shoved Light through a broken basement window, not letting go of him as he crawled through himself, and tied Light to a chair that was all red velvet plush and dust. He turned on a few broken lamps before returning to crouch in front of Light until the two were eye level.

"Please don't move, Light-kun. I'll be right back with food. You haven't eaten since breakfast." But B didn't leave. He watched Light's face and drew a line from Light's temple to the corner of his mouth with one boney knuckle. "So pretty," B whispered. "So smart. I'll be nice." Then he giggled and ran up a flight of steps Light couldn't see.

Light threw up over an armrest and closed his eyes, trying to not breathe in the smell of stomach acid and raspberry syrup. He opened them when there was harsh clattering and several thumps as B fell down the stairs in his eagerness to get back to Light and Light flinched as a harsh wail broke through the room.

"I'm okay, I'm okay," B chanted to himself until Light heard his breathing slow and the shadow that was rocking back and forth stilled and grew larger as B stood up, and then he appeared carrying a tray with a white paper bag on it. "I brought you food," he mumbled, face still red from crying. "You haven't eaten since breakfast?"

Light didn't answer.

One scrawny hand reached into the bag and drew out a squashed doughnut. "Here," he burbled, holding it up to Light's mouth.

"Why don't you eat it?"

B dropped the doughnut back into the bag. "No," he said, "I'm not allowed, I'm not allowed to eat now. I can't eat until he eats." B chewed him thumb bloody and stared. "You should eat. L wants you to eat so you can be happy."

Obviously winning Beyond's sympathy was not the way out of this.

"Okay."

B shoved the doughnut, stained pink with blood, into Light's mouth. Light gagged and B shuffled back a few feet in such perfect imitation of L Light was almost fooled and reality distorted.

"I'm sorry. He doesn't want to hurt you, you're so pretty Light and I said he would be careful."

Light spat out most of the doughnut and shook his head, trying to quell the fear that was slowly turning into panic again. "That's okay, just feed me small bites, okay? Okay? You can do that, I know you could. He could."

"Yes," B nodded, and reached into the bag again. He tore another doughnut into small chunks this time and painstakingly placed them into Light's open mouth. Light's hunger headache was satiated but the sugar was making him shake and would only make him hungrier before long.

"Um, do you have any food that isn't sugar?"

B nodded and reached into the bag again, pulling out a grilled cheese sandwich that looked somewhat fresh. Light wondered if that had been on the mess hall menu today. B fed him that too, and Light froze while chewing the last bite when B leaned down and kissed his forehead. "So pretty," he murmured, staring at Light with hazy eyes. Blushing, B traced circles on the floor with a filthy toe.

"L...L doesn't want to kiss me, B."

"Yes he does." Wild chuckles, dark and low. Light didn't breathe. B shoved his hands deep into worn jean pockets and returned to his form as ersatz L with all the numbing, distant, calculated coolness of the one he worshiped and again, Light was almost fooled.

"So you came to me to try to understand me."

Light's heart fluttered and he thought that all was right and escape in some form or another had just leered in his face with a few tempting options in hand. "I..."

"You want to take over the camp."

"I...no...well...not in a way that would hurt L. You."

"But you did hurt L." B touched the constellation of blood flecking Light's shirt, his own teeth splitting his lip.

"I lost control of myself."

"Oh," B whispered, voice sarcastic. "Don't we all?"

Then a maglite was in his hand, quick, and Light had no time to think before it collided with the side of his head.

- - -

It was dark when the headlights of the Bugatti found the lump that was Light Yagami in the middle of a forgotten road fifteen miles from camp. He was slightly conscious and clawed at L when the latter carefully rolled him over and assessed the physical damage: coagulated blood in one ear, a nasty lump on the side of his head, no broken bones. Scooping the boy into his arms L plodded back to the car where Wammy was waiting to drive him back to camp.

An angry scream followed him as he walked.

- - -

Matt, Mello, and Near were huddled in the hammock when L entered the tent with a sleeping Light draped over his back.

"B took off Light's tracker three hours ago," Mello said. "Is that why..."

"Yes."

At the sound of L's voice Light stirred, head moving as he babbled sleepy nonsense into the older boy's neck.

"Do you know what he did to him?"

"No, Near, not yet. Please leave now. I don't want him to wake up."

One sober nod and the three left.

L laid Yagami onto his bed, redressed his old scratches and dressed the new, took note of the monstrous bruise his kick had formed, and snuggled Light into clean pajamas before tucking him under the covers.

Mello looked up when L poked his head inside their tent not ten minutes later. "Hey, L."

"Would you three please stay in my tent and watch Light while I'm gone?"

"Revenge, huh?"

L didn't answer and the three crawled into the hammock again with L's laptop and solved a pile of cases he'd been neglecting, speaking in low whispers and depleting his candy supply until he returned, almost collapsing on top of them in his fatigue, and the three left the two to dream.

- - -

"Show me your wrist," was the first thing Light said to L when he woke the next morning. He eased carefully to standing; his whole body was sore and a heavy throbbing resounded through his head, but he could think clearly with enough effort.

L held out his arm. There was the mole.

"Why didn't you find me right away? Aren't you a detective?"

"B removed the tracking device we had on you and B is excellent at being traceless." L shuffled in place with head bowed hoping the next sentence from Light's lips wouldn't include words strung together to make bits of sentences like, _pressing charges_, or _leaving at once_, or _you obviously changed me into these pj's and I'm pressing more charges_, but it did not.

"I refuse to work here another day until that monster's locked up."

Ah. That, that he could deal with.

"He's been taken care of."

"I hate you."

Then Light burst into tears and stumbled back to his bed.

If this seems out of form let the boy's experiences be evaluated. Coming from monotonous, though safe, normalcy, in the space of less than forty-eight hours he had been abused, manipulated, tortured by a psychopath, subjected to physical pain, and was still exhausted. In all, his present actions were not the device of some plot. He'd finally broken.

Once L came to this conclusion in the space of two seconds Light had resumed his favorite fetal position and remained in a tight ball when L shuffled over to him.

Soothingly cool fingers brushed Light's bangs aside, untangling them from wet eyelashes. Light shuddered still at the touch.

"Do you think I'll cooperate now?"

"Will you?"

"No."

"Light. Are you listening to me?"

Light rolled onto his back to look up at L, weary, frustrated. In the dimness of the tent Light's eyes and hair were reduced to burnt umber and L wondered if Light would look any more perfect if he'd been less aware of it.

"I'm only going to say this once."

Light nodded.

"I hate losing just as much as you do."

Another nod, bleary eyes now cold with gathering rage.

"And what you've begun won't stop."

"Understood."

"But I didn't bring you here to make you my enemy."

"We're natural rivals," snorted Light. "Give me three weeks and Wammy's will be mine."

L rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands, emitting a sigh that smelled like powdered sugar. "Fine. Starting tomorrow I'll only keep my duties as detective and all my functions related to Wammy's will be yours."

"You're serious."

L chewed on the pad of his pinky. "For one week. You can't forfeit."

"Deal."

L resisted laughing at the malevolent smile beaming up at him.

* * *

Well THAT got serious pretty fast, huh? Don't worry, the Light abuse is pretty much over after this; I lubbs Light and hurting him any more would not make this author happy.

And ooo, unxplained blocks of time! Don't worry, all will be made clear. And in the next chapter QUITE the unexpected happens, so hold on tight to your seats, kiddies.

Please review if you haven't already! I _need_ to know how my crack!BB affected you all, especially as everyone makes him whysoserious and my B is almost...pitiable.


	5. IN WHICH IN MEDIA RES BEGINS

ALL CAMPERS REQUIRED TO TAKE CANOE TIP TEST BEFORE DAY'S END BREAKFAST (prepared at campsite) SHOWERS (as of last night Shower Six is broken, please make note of this) HAWKING (see mews) HORSEBACK RIDING (blacksmithing demonstration optional) MEETING WITH WAMMY LUNCH (at mess hall) MEETING WITH ADVISORS ARCHERY LASER TAG (ALL LEVELS) DINNER (at Point, all levels) NIGHTLY SCHEDULED ACTIVITIES WITHIN OWN UNIT (send assessment report to Wammy)

This was the uncomfortably haphazard and jumbled schedule L handed Light after the younger boy sat up and snuffled into a tissue for a time. He wasn't really concentrating on the schedule but analyzing the turn of events that had just taken place. You see, dear reader, up until the mortifyingly childish act of crying he'd just succumbed to, he'd been planning a liaison with L that would give him control of Wammy's through mutual respect and understanding and eventual betrayal. The path that L now offered destroyed this plan, and luckily so. The notion of giving L the respect he deserved only left confusing feelings of actual happiness before instinct pummeled happiness senseless and left a bitter, rancid taste in Light's mouth. He was here to conquer. And conquer only.

Deciding that starting a conversation with L might look like a subtle plea for help Yagami imagined L dead as he febrezed his belongings.

"I had Wammy bring you new clothes."

Two extra squirts from the bottle and the view of Light's back.

L blew into his steaming cup of sludge, _née_ coffee, pretending he wasn't hurt. He made one last attempt, trying to sound disaffected. "Do you want me to come with you to pick up the breakfast stuff? I think Misa's the only one there."

Light laughed. "I think all the data you have on me shows I can handle a hormonal girl."

Taking a first sip of his coping mechanism, L watched Light leave.

- - -

Rape was imminent. He should have let L come along and act as bodyguard.

As Misa's fingertips starts skimming past the hem of his pajama pants ("ARE THOSE BLACK BOXERS OR ARE THEY BRIEFS? I LOVE BRIEFS THEY'RE SO KEEE-YOOOOT AND BLACK'S MY FAVORITE COLOR!") Light had an epiphany and grabbed her wrists. Misa gasped.

"I really like it when you touch me, Light."

Light ignored this and steered her into sitting in case she collapsed at hearing the dire news. She giggled, murmuring something about how warm he was and how good he smelled, and watched his face, expectant.

"Misa, I should have told you this before...I like boys." He patted her head and hoped for an immediate reaction that resulted in, say, her repulsion of him.

"LIGHT..." Her face crumpled. "LIGHT, ARE YOU A HUNDRD PERCENT SURE? BECAUSE IF YOU STILL WANT TO EXPERIMENT...BI-CURIOUS...ME...NOOOOOOO..." She fell to her knees and began crying.

Light began looking for a box with something suitably breakfast-like inside that he could feed the campers. There were several unmarked boxes and he'd just grab the first convenient one with pancake mix and be off, but when he came upon such a one he turned and found himself pinned to the counter by Misa.

"DO I KNOW HIM?" was the distraught girl's next question.

Light thought. If he said that he did have a boyfriend said boyfriend would have been left behind in Japan. Misa would virtually stalk this fictional hottie until satisfied he didn't exist and then continue to torment him, perhaps pretending to be surrogate girlfriend by playing cupid. No, the only safe way out of the grave he'd dug (and it hadn't been one until he realized with horror what he'd have to do) was to be seeing someone at the camp. And there was really no other option than the person currently sorting jelly beans by color in his hammock.

Oh, how repulsive.

Yagami could swear Misa to secrecy of the relationship and L wouldn't have a clue, and hopefully there would be no other repercussions besides the glorious one taking place right now.

_Haha_, he thought, lightheaded, _clue. Funny_.

"Yeah...um...Misa? It's kind of embarrassing cause he doesn't want anyone to know."

"WELL YOU COULD HAVE JUST _SAID_ L."

Noting the jaw drop with a smirk, Misa giggled and whispered, which meant talking in a normal tone. "I'm not dumb I mean look at him and you'd be perfect together and I don't know whyyyyyyyyyyyy I didn't see this before but I'm so BLIND when I'm in love." A tragic sigh. "I'm so happy for you. L is really cute. Like you. I CAN'T WAIT TO TELL HALLE AND WEDY."

In fact, the entire camp would probably know before noon.

"I told you he doesn't want anyone to know."

"BUT LIGHT HE _TRUSTS_ US OR HE WOULDN'T HAVE HIRED US AND LIKE SERIOUSLY EVERYONE WANTS TO BE WITH L CAUSE LIKE THERE WAS THIS ONE INTERROGATION TAPE WHERE HE HAD TO SEDUCE SOMEONE AND IT WAS SO HOT AND I REALLY WANTED TO BE THE BOY HE WAS SEDUCING BUT I TOLD HIM HE NEEDED TO PRACTICE HIS SEDUCING SKILLS AND HE SAID THAT I HAD–"

"Misa," Light begged, her unwanted speech flirting with his imagination.

"OH BUT I BET YOU ALREADY KNOWWWWW EVERYTHING HE CAN DO. HEEHEE. BET THAT'S WHERE ALL THE SCRATCHES AND EVERYTHING ARE FROM, HUH?"

Light tensed, remembering the horrific events of the day previous. "Ye–yes, and you can't tell anyone. Please. For me."

"I TOLD YOU, I'D ONLY TELL WEDY AND HALLE AND MAYBE WAMMY AND THAT ONE HOT LIFEGUARD."

"No. No one."

"Only if you kiss me." She flapped her arms and bounced in place, laughing.

"No. L will get jealous."

Misa winked. "Fine then, I'll just have to be the one who _starts_ it." She pursed her lips and leaned in but Light shoved her off with the box and fled.

There had been no kiss and the camp would know. And even though such a faked connection to the detective would most likely make him the envy of oh, the entire world, the thought of even holding hands with the pale rickety-framed monkey was too much to ponder while fleeing. He still had time to go back, murder Amane, and hide the body. Unless, of course...Light sprinted faster down the path with his box of pancake mix and bacon and didn't stop until he reached his own tent, dumping the box on the floor.

"Misa called me," L said before Light opened his mouth. "Apparently you and I have been dating since your last year of high school."

Seeing Light squirm in place as if holding in noxious amounts of flatulence was soothing L's wounded heart. Besides, there was absolutely no reason to let Light know of the existence of the millions of cameras and that L had already seen everything, knew Light's motivation, and would be milking this situation for everything it was worth. He took a noiseless sip of his blueberry shake and continued to type.

Light began to babble as he wallowed in depths of embarrassment that went miles deeper than anything he'd previously experienced, even the incident with the tampon. "I'm really really sorry I shouldn't have said anything but I thought it would make her back off and now the whole camp is going to know and it was just stupid you see she started touching my boxers and I wanted to make her stop and I'm gay so I told her that I had a boyfriend and I thought that if it was someone at camp she'd back off."

"Oh," was L's response. He hadn't even looked up from his laptop.

"I'm sorry," Light repeated.

L, at last, met Light's eyes. "I told her our..." L sucked down another fourth of his shake in one tight sip,"relationship is so secret that we can't show any sort of physical affection in public. It would seem more suspicious if you suddenly started pawing at me."

_You_. As in Light. As in L would refuse to reciprocate. As in L thought that pawing on his part, giving the eyebrow quirk and mildly affronted look he was giving his laptop screen, would be abhorrent.

Before his mind could digress to all the disgustingly unattractive uses of the word _paw_, Light let his pride flare. Even if he agreed to the fact that Misa seemed like the sort of girl who'd be hyperanalytical and would notice a parody of a relationship they supposedly already had, that L didn't want to touch Light was obviously a lie.

_Everyone_ wanted Light.

"Well, we can't not be affectionate or it won't seem real."

"Light?"

Light crossed his arms and waited.

"Do you have a crush on me?"

Baited and trapped. It was all blindingly obvious now. Sickening.

"Absolutely _not_."

"Then why do you want this so badly?"

"Want? No. Nothing. No pawing. End of argument. I have to go cook breakfast. I hate you, remember? I don't _paw_." Ending the sentence with a glare, Light snatched away the plastic straw that L had been chewing flat.

L bristled. "If you acted like my parent you'd never convince Amane anyway."

"When my _boyfriend_ acts like he's four with his finger in his mouth all the time what else would anyone expect?"

"We're not together," L reminded gently.

"She's going to think we are," Light snarled. "Wait until lunch. You can bring your duties with you." He waved his hand at the laptop and exited.

L gave the space Light had just occupied a glowing smile. That had gone almost flawlessly.

- - -

Now convinced by none other than that one individual he always though correct—himself—that he wanted to touch L, Light made a mental list of diverse sorts of intimate and subtle (paw he did not) gestures to be used on L the next time Misa was in their combined presence. It was only to prove to the detective that he wasn't the only one (according to Amane's rendition of L's skills) who had mastered that area.

And thankfully if the detective grew to like the counterfeit relationship Light could brush him off at once. He'd had dozens of boyfriends and the occasional girlfriend that he'd used until wrung dry (money, social positioning, whatever he could strain out of them―he'd had no time for real affection or sex) and this would be no different.

New living arrangements had been decided upon since Light had last been in Mello and Matt's tent. Their plan to watch L and Light had flowered into something monstrous. Things that were monstrous needed a tactical base, and they had created one for the three to share. Three beds were smashed together in the center of the tent with Mello's queen-sized air mattress covered in blankets and pillows and half of Near's softer toys floating on top. Matt had unpacked all of his equipment, powered by a generator purring in the corner like an amiable pet, and a cooler full of chocolate was open next to the thing.

Again, Matt was already awake, but sitting up this time. Near's head was in his lap and the hand that wasn't typing absently played with thick curls.

"You..." Light assessed the new situation. "Get. Up. Now."

"Five minutes."

"No. L put me in charge."

"Exactly."

Mello's head rose from the murky depths of his black pillow and Light's fingers itched to touch the sleep-mussed hair.

"What's it doing?" He unwound his legs from Near's and extracted his arm from underneath Matt's shirt. Light didn't know that Mello was incredibly needy, that Matt was straight, and Near would only take physical affection when asleep, and thought that he was viewing some freaky underage ménage à trois.

Matt replied to Mello in Serbian and Mello replied in Portuguese. The exchange, for those who cannot understand those languages, went something like this:

"B really messed him up. We should be nice today. He looks really tired."

"Mail, he said he_ hated L_."

Matt shrugged and let Mello win.

Mello offered Light a subdued smile that melted Light's spine and most of his grey matter and said, "Looks like Beyond scratched you up pretty bad, Light."

"Yeah," Light nodded, dropping the chewed-on straw, and pulled off his shirt.

It was actually ghastly. Deep bruises licked up and down Light's sides and front, the scrapes from the gravel not covered with rusty gauze and medical tape thick and sullen across his skin. The shape of knuckles scraped his jaw, and the top of one ear was cut.

"Oh, baby," Mello whispered, feeling almost sympathetic, "come here and let me look at those." He shifted closer to Near to let Light have room. (It was undoubtedly unfortunate that Mello's concern was fraudulent, because Light snuggled into him with such misery and thankfulness it was supremely awkward knowing L was watching.)

"Do you want to talk about it? Mello murmured, adapting his most soothing L-based tone. Light's face was buried in Mello's pillow and Mello couldn't resist making a face at Matt.

"No," hiccuped Light. "We have to eat breakfast now."

Let it be known that the option of choosing Mello as his fake boyfriend had been thought over and then repelled when Light remembered a clause in his contract dismissing all relationships between staff and campers, but the soft touches through his hair and over his neck almost made him wish he hadn't and taken the exorbitant fine and jail time.

"I think you should rest for a few minutes while we make you breakfast."

"We have a full schedule today."

"I said a couple minutes," Mello purred. "Not half an hour. Just a few minutes," he repeated, tucking the covers around both of them. Near was watching with nostrils delicately flared.

"Yeah," Light breathed. His eyes were already closed as Mello began to massage the teen's forehead with his fingertips. "That feels good."

"Mmmm," was the generic yet deliciously calming reply.

"Don't stop, Mello."

"Mmmmm."

"Mello, you're...my favorite."

"Mmm-hmmm."

"Once...camp is over, I want you to be my...my boyfriend."

"Mmmmm."

And Light was asleep.

- - -

Light was brought gently to consciousness with a nudge of L's heel.

"Mmff."

"You've been asleep for five hours."

Light snapped upright and fell out of the bed onto his feet. "_What_?"

"And your campers have stolen the two year-olds and put them on a flight to Malaysia along with their supervisors."

"He—"

"And _they_ are currently flying to San Diego but Wammy has ordered them back here by noon tomorrow."

Knowing nothing could be amended and a panic attack would be frivolous to the extreme the mature path was trod and Light grew pokerfaced. "Why San Diego?"

"Because you forfeited your responsibilities I am putting you in the kitchen with Misa for the rest of the day. You'll help prepare the food and the menus for the next month. They expect you any minute."

"Will you go with?"

"And Light, if I ever catch you sleeping next to a camper again you'll be sent home. Your talks about professionalism and integrity during your interview are now mooted."

"Please?"

A cool look, then L slammed his laptop shut. "Alright."

- - -

"I don't want to see the pandas," Matt grumbled while they waited for the bus. "Let's go to UCSD and steal some crack from the labs."

"We're drawing enough attention to ourselves as it is." Near glared at Mello.

Mello had rummaged through Light's belongings and his own to prepare for this epic excursion and was wearing a gold lamé speedo (Light's), cowboy boots (his own) and a pair of obnoxiously huge and colorful headphones crammed over a faded and dirty leopard print Stetson (both Matt's, and an afterthought—he was using them to block out the other two). It wasn't so much the attention they were getting as the attention they weren't, for on Mello it simply _worked_, and the ensemble appeared as bourgeoise as Matt's jeans and hoodie. Near began to sign at Mello and Mello hit his hands away, an action that Near rebutted by grabbing Mello's rosary and yanking him close which Mello himself counteracted by grabbing the loose end of the thing and pressing the cross to Near's mouth. Matt watched the two's faces, inwardly sniggering as suddenly anger dissolved into something that caused a different sort of heat and the boys jumped apart.

Near babbled, "I think the fastest route would be to take a bus to the hotel and then call Wammy and L and then go to the zoo in the morning and, Mello?"

Mello was flagging a taxi.

Near's mouth shriveled. "I," he began, but Matt tugged his sleeve.

"C'mon," the older boy whispered in Near's ear. "Let's ditch him. Serves him right, huh?"

When Mello turned to shout something over the stentorian strains of !! he was shocked to find that Near and Matt were nowhere to be found. He counted to five in quick taps of his foot, panicked, and was on the phone with Wammy before he saw the glint of goggles in the corner of his eye above him in a bus window as the monstrous vehicle zoomed past.

Gritting his teeth, Mello took off running.

- - -

"HI LIGHT HI L HOW ARE YOU TWO YOU LOOK GOOD I MEAN NOT TOGETHER LIKE SEPARATELY OOPS I MEAN HEEEEY HOW ARE YOU GUYS DOING? LOOK I'M DECORATING CAKE!"

A phrase, an overused and almost cliched phrase ran through Light's head and clutched at his soul and even though he knew the true meaning of the phrase and its interpretation by its creator and the overly simplified popular version none of that mattered in the least, for Light _seized the day_ for all it was worth.

"Watch out!" He grabbed L's shirt and pulled him back just as the detective was about to step in a puddle of vegetable oil. Clumsy, wonderful Misa.

And it was so beautifully two-sided: Light's own personal sense of cleanliness?

Or wanting to save L from a nasty, nasty fall?

Misa blinked her vacuous eyes. "OOOOOO I SHOULD TAKE CARE OF THAT SORRY HEEHEE OOPS." She didn't notice L's posture correct harshly as his shirt was straightened by a loving Light and for some outré reason doing so managed to entangle Light's fingers in the fabric and fingers slipped beneath shirt, next to skin, just skimming under the waistband of L's jeans.

" L I WANTED TO ASK YOU ABOUT MIKAMI."

L gathered his scattered thoughts. "He's needed much sooner than I thought," said L, pulling at his shirt himself and refusing to let hormones get the better of him. Light stood at his side, smirking and victorious.

"YAY I'M SO EXCITED! I LOVE NEW BOYS!" She hugged L and Light both with a squeal and bounced back off, dancing around the kitchen. "LIGHT COME HELP ME WITH THIS CAKE NOW PLEASE BABY."

L was gone with that, leaving Light with a new goal. Wammy's was no longer the focus. No, the focus was L Lawliet, and Light was measuring every angle from which to attack.

- - -

An Adonis wearing a gold speedo strutted onto the sand at Black's Beach up to two boys who'd been frolicking in the ocean in their skivvies.

"WE'RE GOING. NOW."

"Nope."

"I HATE YOU, MATT."

"You can't do anything by yourself, can you?"

"YOU DESERTED ME. YOU NEVER DESERT ME. AND YOU TOOK HIM WITH YOU AND I'VE BEEN FOLLOWING FOR HOURS AND YOU'VE BEEN...BEEN...THIS. THIS. I'M LEAVING. I'M GOING TO THE HOTEL." The last sentence straggled out with world-heavy weariness.

"Coming," Near got to his feet and cleaned off his hands on baby blue boxers that still weren't quite dry. Mello was distracted from the punishment he was about to unleash on Matt. Instead he cocked his head to one side, mouth twisted, and watched Near clamber into his pants.

Matt groaned and blushed and reached for his shirt.

- - -

Light shoved L's legs down. He shoved off the laptop. He placed the caramel-walnut upsidedown banana cake on L's thighs.

"Misa made this for me and I'm allergic to nuts."

"Oh." L picked off one of the prettily-arranged legumes and popped the caramel-encrusted thing into his mouth. "Thank you."

(Light was as allergic to nuts as he was to power. Or Mello.)

"I'm sorry I went looking for B. Okay, well, I'm not sorry, but I'm sorry I was rude to you after you went through all the trouble of finding me."

L shrugged and scooped out a fingerful of cake. Light's lip curled.

"Just _lex artis_," L said, and licked at his finger. He shrugged again and turned his full attention to the cake.

The reception of the gift souring Light's previously exuberant mood, he sat on his bed and rolled his eyes. It broke beneath him with a rusty shriek and Light found himself on the floor, staring up at the three bats clinging to the rafters and peeping down at him as if they'd love nothing better than to introduce themselves in the next second, sending down a welcoming present of a single dropping.

Light undignified the manly language of Latin by shrieking "_Libera te me ex inferis_!" before scrambling to his feet and running over to L's hammock. He gripped the edge of it and snarled, "I cannot live in these conditions. I demand sleeping in the main buildings tonight."

L was eating whole handfuls of cake at this point. (It was absolutely scrumptious.) L wiggled his toes. "I would tell you to get one of the camper's beds and drag it in here but Wammy's taking advantage of their trip and disinfecting the canvas. You can sleep in my hammock."

"Okay," sighed Light, and L slunk down to let Light in. He re-perched himself atop the high end of the broken bed and resumed his work. Light sunk into piles of silk comforters with his back towards L and wondered how something that looked juvenile and cheap could be a thousand times more blissful than his air mattress and egyptian cotton.

He'd get a new bed as soon as he woke up tomorrow, of course.

Of course.

The under-blankets were richly perfumed in L.

As soon as he woke up.

- - -

"Near's asleep," Mello whispered into Matt's ear. The penthouse suite was everything they had expected and Matt had gone right to the TV in one of the adjoining rooms to inspect the offerings. It was a toss-up between _Die Hard_ and _Plan 9 From Outer Space_.

"So?"

"I want to go to bed."

"Then. Go."

"But you're going to watch the movie."

Matt rolled his eyes and looked up at Mello. "I am not your buffer. Go sleep. You can do it. I promise."

Mello just stood there and played with his rosary, humming tunelessly.

"What, afraid he's gonna rape you i—"

"No, I _wantorapehim_."

Matt drug his fingers down his face, hard. "He. Is. Like. Thirt. Teen. Mello."

Mello coughed.

"Do whatever, man."

Mello shoved Matt over. "Plan 9."

They fell asleep from jet lag halfway through and woke up cramped and moody. Near was sprawled on the bed reading the paper when Mello stumbled into the room with Matt following behind.

"You sleep good?" Matt asked, elbowing Mello.

Near shrugged and turned another page as the other two fell into the bathroom together to pee. (The truth was, dear reader, that he had not: the lack of at least one other body had left him feeling open and chilled. The three extra blankets on the bed proved this point.)

After breakfast in bed and then a trip to the concierge lounge to stock up on anything and everything offered the three plotted their route. It was soon finalized: pandas, CPK, and leading L and Light on a wild goose chase through most of the civilized world.

- - -

_They're in Ethiopia, L_. Y_ou must go fetch them or they will refuse to return_. So the text from Wammy read the next morning. Wammy always used proper grammar in every situation even if doing so lost seconds on life in an emergency situation).

"Chicago," L lied, snapping his phone shut. "We can be there by tomorrow afternoon."

Light seethed from underneath L's blankets. "I don't want to go to Chicago."

"Then I'll cancel my reservation at The Drake."

Light spotted a speck of crumbly dry leaf that had almost invaded his personal space. "The Drake."

"Yes."

"Conditions," Light warned, peeping out from under the covers. "In case this turns into us going around the globe after them three." Light's english was not so perfect when he was tired.

"I'm listening."

"Whenever I'm tired, we'll sleep. Whenever I'm hungry, we'll eat. And no handcuffs. Ever."

"Okay."

Light hunkered down again to catch more rest before he was flown across the country and hopefully, into Mello's waiting arms (as that had been his dream upon waking he decided to return to it to see what would happen next).

"Light?"

"L."

"My conditions are that you must obey—"

"—THE CONTRACT, I KNOW."

"Except for where it interferes with your requests. Please."

Light rolled over. Six minutes later L checked his phone and turned off the alarm he had set. The time-wasting duration of his four hour nap was annoying but if he began to start a two hour cycle every fifty-eight hours he began getting a little loopy after the third week. So sleep now he must even if Light was taking over his bed.

"Please scoot over, Light."

Light did as was requested.

"Thank you." A blast of chill morning air invaded under the covers (though L only felt the warmth from Light's body heat as he pulled the blankets back).

"What—" Light yelped.

L slumped over onto Light, already asleep, his thumb in his mouth. He curled around Light with his next breath.

"My four year-old boyfriend," Light muttered. He absently patted L's face and dozed off.

* * *

The fifth chapter! Finally! Was it what you expected? The next chapter is going to go over quite a number of events very quickly, and things are going to be turned so upside-down so fast your eyes will bleed. Perhaps not, but expect for Light and L to draw closer, then be torn apart, the arrival of Mikami, and for the reappearance of BB.

Again, love to all my readers and watchers! Reviews are what fuel me, so if you haven't reviewed already, please press the little purple box and tell me what you think! Changes? Annoyances? Can't-wait-for-L-and-Light-to-make-out-so-I-should-add-that-sooner-than-intended? Let me know!

Again, love to you all.


	6. IN WHICH LIGHT TAKES REVENGE

As the masseuse's hands conquered all the sore and aching bits of Light's body through the helps of tea tree, lemongrass, and peppermint oil, the brilliant boy contemplated his lack of success.

He had been at Wammy's half a week and had already had L's duties handed to him, but of course was prevented from exercising those duties and was now only clinging to joint partnership with L as they searched for the brats in a city of millions. As soon as this massage was over he'd tell L his plan as they supped at Charlie Trotter's. However, the rapturous dinner and fake ID's that allowed them the accompanying liquor drove this purpose from Light _ever_ so quickly. A studious student never has time for parties (i.e., drinking) so Light was led drunker than expected and willing to the back of the rented Aston Martin Wammy was driving.

"Light," L informed, his seatbelt wrapped around his shins as he refused to sit properly, "please don't enter my suite after 9:00PM."

"Why?" Light slurred.

"Because I'm hiring a prostitute and I don't want to be interrupted."

This, out of all the things L had ever said, this statement was somehow the most like a mind game in Light's Tokay-laden stupor.

"Why," he stared, glaring.

"Because I want to."

That made pristinely accurate sense.

"Can I have a hooker too?"

"If you wish," L said, and asked Wammy to take a right.

So L's hooker was delivered with another boy for Light, and Light realized how incredibly virginal he was and how incredibly experienced any hooker this expensive was going to be and blanched at the opportunity of sexual excess, though it was sorely tempting. His prostitute was cute and slim and hung, and L's was an Asian boy and in a blurry tipsy moment Light _knew_ he was Siwon of Suju flown personally to L for his express and lustful benefit.

"I can't do this," he said when presented with this fleshly gift. His hooker was dismayed. An awkward silence fell around the four of them, and L took control.

"If you go two rooms over there's an elderly but spry gentleman who'd like to see you," L told the rejected boy. Needing nothing further (a paycheck was a paycheck) Light's hooker left.

Light wandered back to his room, forgetting to thank L for his consideration.

His bed was very large.

And he alone had to fill it, as L romped around with a gorgeous piece of meat not sixty square feet away.

A knocking at the door rescued him from these lonely thoughts and Light's spirits were revived as he staggered over and opened it. It was his hooker, playing nervously with the tail of his latex catsuit.

"The older man sent me back to you."

"Oh. I'm a virgin," Light blurted. "I don't really...not with a hooker."

As both the never-tried delicacy and salesman of said delicacy the hooker introduced himself as Harlan and began wedging himself into Light's personal space with promises of no pain and going slowly.

"I mean," Light started over, thinking of the romping again, "I want someone blonde."

"What?"

"I like this boy and he's blonde," Light explained. "I—"

"I don't have time for this." The hooker pushed Light back into his room and almost leapt onto the doorknob.

"Now you can do whatever you want to me!" cried Harlan after he slammed the door shut, flying to the bed in a gleam of tight plastic and dark hair. He sprawled there, tantalizing and completely approachable.

Light's gaze roved over the barely contained body of this lithe young thing.

"Anything I want?"

"I'm in your power," the hooker cooed.

Power.

And Light figured out the mind game with that simple slip of tongue. His face still pasted over with confusion he toddled forward and straddled Harlan, who pretended to be flushed and shy.

"Are...are you..."

"No," Light said, not caring what he was replying to, and kissed him.

"You like that?" Light murmured when they finally broke. He nuzzled the hooker's neck.

Harlan moaned and wrapped his legs around Light, fisting the half-unbuttoned dress shirt feather-light fingers had been undoing. Light bent down to unleash another dizzying torrent of kisses and then remembered his plan.

"Oh." He ripped his shirt away and disentangled himself from the boy's legs. "I'm tired," he explained. "I need to sleep." He flopped over and closed his eyes.

"But," panted Harlan.

"You'll get paid. Just leave."

Catboy strutted out and Light smirked into his pillow.

- - -

Watari handed a disk to L the next morning. "I think he found you out, L."

L was all disgust. They reviewed the the taped encounter together and Wammy graciously paid no heed to L's desire to watch the lengthy makeout session precisely nine times. Once L found the hooker's error he pouted over his computer, picking at his toenails and watching the steam rise from his coffee. Then he became nervous, had to brush his teeth, flip through a half dozen cases, and pout again, still feeling ill at ease. Perhaps he had misjudged Light's intelligence. Had the prostitute ploy been too obvious? Would it have been over-obvious had the hooker not slipped up?

The only way L was to be soothed was by beating Light in something again, and that could—and would—happen today.

- - -

"Ahhh," Light stared. L was wearing clothes and by that, dear reader, from Light's perspective, this means clothes Light himself approved of, and Light approved of dark denim that wasn't overly baggy and he also approved of grey sweaters that clung tight enough to reveal the muscles capoeira had formed when L shifted just right.

"Where are we going?"

"Shopping."

As much as Light tried to act nonconformist the gay in him was occasionally revealed. As now. He clapped his hands together. "Shopping? Where?" The excitement almost drove the searing headache away.

"Mello likes spending my money. We're heading to Michigan Avenue."

"Breakfast first?"

"It depends on your hangover."

Light frowned around the headache as L pressed his hand to Light's forehead. "Is it gone?"

"Yes," Light lied.

"Alright," said L, his hand moving down to cup Light's cheek. "Downstairs to breakfast?"

"Mmhmm," Light sighed, nuzzling into the hand without meaning to. He forgot how soothingly cool L's touch was, and it eased the pain of the headache enough to sacrifice pride.

"I can wait," L sniggered. "Rest, please."

"Okay," Light sighed. His eyelids fluttered as L's hand fell away. "That felt good."

"Yep." L kept sniggering and shut the door.

- - -

Feeling as though the tonnage of bags he was weighed down with was absolutely nothing to his straining arms, Light was in the middle of a philosophical battle with L. They'd already argued and debated and come to the same conclusions and changed history just by conversing, and both boys were unconsciously glowing as their emotions for each other bordered on a rough meeting ground (L, total captivation, Light, consumed with everything that went on inside L's mind).

Making a conclusive end to their worldly and materialistic day the two entered one last store on their way back to the hotel.

"Mr. Saitama!" The manager of Tiffany's burbled. "We welcome you! Ah! And this must be Mr. Kirihara!"

Light bowed, easing into his part, too mentally busy deciphering he and L's conversations to notice all the employees clinging to the walls and the dimmed lights. He should have been paying attention with more vigilance, as he was caught utterly off guard when L dropped to one knee in front of him.

This had the unfortunate effect of making the proposal that much more genuine.

Light didn't hear an employee gasp on cue. He was staring at the little blue box in L's hand as it traveled, up, up, up...

_L could not be serious_.

The manager grinned.

The platinum ring inside gleamed a Tiffany's gleam.

"Will..."

Yes," Light gasped, blinking back tears as L stood and kissed him on the forehead. His inner fury was giving him the emotion needed to be the blushing betrothed and he almost didn't feel the kiss at all.

L, feeling a rush of a faultlessly opposite emotion, whispered, "You're beautiful," in Japanese as he slipped the ring onto Light's finger. It fit perfectly.

"The police will be here in two minutes," L continued in Light's native tongue, disguising the sentence with a kiss beneath Light's ear. "This is the Huntington-Siress case, and you solved it ten minutes ago." The sentence finished with the briefest graze of teeth against earlobe.

Light wiped his eyes and made exclamations as roses and champagne were handed to him and the rest of the staff. He clung to L's arm, shaky and too giggly, and L wondered, for not the first time nor the last, whether Light realized how staggeringly perfect he was. Meanwhile, Light was transfixed with adrenaline. He'd solved a case _meant for L_. And the entire right side of his head was all tingly and whenever L smiled (because L was doing much of cool smiles and smooth, suggestive little things) Light's gaze kept transferring to L's lips instead of staying on his eyes.

"We need to be going now," L said in english once he'd downed one glass of champagne. He grabbed Light's purchases with one hand and Light himself with the other and the two bowed their way out of the store.

Nothing needed to be said. Light knew exactly what L was doing, and L knew that, and it was only until halfway down the block Light came out of his self-adulation and realized they were still holding hands, and it annoyed him that L knew when the realization occurred and dropped the ringed hand at once.

"I can't believe you used a _prostitute_ to try and figure out whether my so-called power-hungry tendencies transferred over to the bedroom," Light said before he realized that L had set another trap.

"_What_?" L stared, mouth open, as his arm stayed perpendicular even though the taxi had pulled up to the curb not two seconds before.

"I, uh..." Light ducked inside the taxi to cover his blush.

"You asked for a prostitute," L said, slamming the door after he got in with a forcefulness that made Light twitch. "The Drake, please," he told the driver.

"Yeah," Light mumbled. He concentrated all his energy on glaring at the gum on the door handle.

"You think that means I was trying to figure out your fetishes by fulfilling your request?"

"Well, yes—"

"And _why_?"

"Be...because..." Actually, he had absolutely no idea if L truly wanted him or not.

L was patient, and waited for Light to force out something plausible.

"Because B said you wanted me."

"Oh," L smiled, "that makes perfect sense. The manipulative homicidal forest man is always right."

Neither spoke for the rest of the ride home.

- - -

Once they had reached the hotel, Light was reading in bed and realized he was still wearing the ring. He'd have to return it to L in the morning. As he was a frequent admirer of pretty things and the ring was exceedingly pretty indeed, he slipped it off to study it more intently.

On the inside, engraved in perfect characters, was one word.

"_Ichiban_." Number one. The best.

A few seconds later there was a knock on L's door.

The warmth of heat and damp and smell of shampoo that floated out when the door opened made Light take a step backwards in alarm. No, L's brashness wasn't about to be exhibited: he was, thankfully, wearing a towel.

A towel slung dangerously low on his hips as his skin glowed from the heat of the bathroom, still dewy from a shower. The seventeen year-old boy watched a single drop of water run down L's perfectly carved collarbone, drip between the firm muscles of his chest, thread through abs, hit the thin terry fabric. The body was an irking _aide-mémoire_ of how L's last twenty-four hours had been spent.

Light's eyes then traveled up past L's hand, now tightly clutching the towel, and snagged momentarily on his perfectly formed deltoid before hazel eyes met onyx.

"Here's the ring."

"Thanks." L switched hands holding the towel and and it dropped a bit lower on the opposite hip.

"You had it made for me?" Light asked, wanting to make conversation to stop himself from looking further for any substantial proof that L's hooker had actually touched the body before him. This backfired: L's hair was still damp and the wavy tendrils framing his face and falling into his eyes were absolutely distracting, so Light now stared at his bunny slippers and wondered why on earth they were bunny slippers; then he remembered he had just asked L a question.

"I asked you a question."

"I know." L's eyes narrowed. "The ring's mine."

"The engraving on the inside..."

"I'm a fourth Japanese."

"That's cool," was the lame reply.

L smiled and went to close the door right as Light spotted a bite over ribcage.

"L? L, can I see your laptop? I want to check my email."

- - -

Feeling as if his entrapment on the filthy tent floor had been vindicated, Near straddled a dazed Mello and poked at his face.

"This is why you don't take unlabeled drugs."

Mello croaked something intangible, but Near must have known what it meant because he leaned in closer with a frown.

"I locked it. He can't come in."

Mello groaned.

"You'll be fine. You already threw up. You won't die and the effects aren't permanent but you need to stay prone."

"Liar."

Near grinned a tiny, evil, perfect grin, leaning in until curls brushed bangs. "You're right. I just like you under me."

Mello blushed and scrabbled at the floor, but was still too weak to do more than flail.

"No." Near pushed at arms and head." Stop it."

"Ungfth."

"Shhh," Near soothed. He kissed Mello's cheek. "You want a full recovery?"

Mello stilled as if bolted.

"Thought so," Near smirked, giving him a hard stare before tipping Mello's head to expose golden, smooth neck.

"If you're not still enough you'll throw up again," he warned before leaning down and licking a wet line from collarbone to the corner of Mello's mouth. A weak tug at his shirt was swatted away with glee.

"No," Mello shuddered, "I meant," and he tugged Near down for a proper kiss.

Mello woke up and shoved the heavy weight that was really Near off his sweat-drenched frame. He found the box of sleeping pills and threw them across the room to exact superficial revenge, and the noise of it (he knocked over a lamp in the process) woke Near up.

"What?" Near whispered.

"I threw the stuff."

"Mmm." Near tried to curl around Mello again and was startled to find the bed empty. "What'd I do?"

An exhausted-from-the-zoo Near who's mental faculties weren't in overdrive and used too many contractions was an irresistible Near and Mello crawled back into the bed. (From Near's perspective, a glowing-with-sweat Mello wearing only a tiny pair of black boxers crawling across their—_their_—bed to him made Near shrink back try to quell his shaking.)

"What," he whispered again, sharper, to prove that he wasn't ready to be taken full advantage of yet, though his heart was racing. To Mello, the tone reminded him of his almost drugged domination and he gurgled.

Near's frown was dimmed by the sleepiness in it. "Y'okay?"

Mello shook his head. "Where's Matt?"

Thinking he meant to find him, Near pointed.

Mello crowed and ran to the door to snap the deadbolt in with another resounding crow, and fell onto the bed again with an eagerness that made Near hold a hand over his heart as if to prevent it from being heard.

Thinking to reverse the dream and prove to subconscious Near that Mello was in very action the one who would do all the ravishing and that the dream hadn't heated up any part of him at all, Mello bent over a now quivering Near and grinned, teeth catching the light from the window.

"Please," Near whimpered, but the ventured plea was unprofitable: Mello slumped over and fell into REM again as the rest of the sleeping pills kicked in.

Near prodded and shoved until Mello was in a comfortable position with Near's arms around him and too angry to sleep, Near held Mello and counted primes.

Not a particle of memory of the entire night remained in Mello's mind the next morning and he whined about sleeping too deeply. Near only made guttural frustrated noises in his throat and looked away.

Matt did not want to know, _ever_.

- - -

What he expected was Light ready to leave for Taiwan, and what L received was a glorious explosion of a thousand paper cranes when he opened the doors connecting he and Light's connecting suites. They were scattered in a shattered rainbow around the entire room, and fifty or so had been piled against the door to fall around L's feet when he entered.

The first crane was unfolded to reveal the words, _I win_, printed in neat, perfectly proportional letters.

L was anal enough to open and read every one and they never differed, except for the last folded flat beneath Light's pillow on his perfectly made bed.

_I will always win_.

L stuffed this note into his pocket.

Just as Light planned, there was now a knock on the door and L was bombarded by the manager of the hotel who took the time to patiently explain to L that there had been a mistake with L's paperwork and his identity had been compromised and he was now required to stay in the hotel for the rest of the week in hiding while the mess was sorted out, and would he please answer the telephone ringing madly off the hook inside Light's suite? It was Lebanon, and they were angry. And would he care to take breakfast in bed?

Always feeling surreal when he wasn't in control, L felt for the crane in his pocket and hated himself.

- - -

"The lavender fields!" gushed Light's mother as Light let his family pause by the chalet's window to take in France's scenery.

"Wow, onii-chan! And you're the manager of all this!"

"Yep." Light shoved his hands in his pockets, frowned, then folded his arms.

"I'm proud of you, son."

Light grinned and then told them they'd be moving on to the east wing and they could see the campers as they worked.

B followed at the rear of the family, never taking his eyes off of Light.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

This chapter is mostly about reality vs. fantasy, for some reason. AND BUMBUMBUM. As of this chapter, L/Light has officially begun. Sorry this has been so long in coming; school's been killing me.

Thank you to all my reviewers! Please review and tell me what you think!


	7. IN WHICH THE FALL OCCURS

In order to summarize the time between L's disseverance with Light Yagami and Light's self-guided tour through the Parisian countryside chalet where Wammy's Camp now was located to what happened beyond, only the major points will be addressed herein.

Firstly, Light had used his brief emailing splurge to its fullest extent. (That he'd also wanted to stare at L's nakedness is not worth addressing; that he'd wanted to spot evidence of the hooker on L's body is also not worthy of the topic at hand.) He'd booked a flight and researched historical societies and decided France was his favorite European country, from what he remembered of a trip to Europe to relive an 18th-century obsessed version of a Tour meant for finishing off an aristocratic boy. Using his analytical brilliance in two hours he had both location booked and the concierge staff busily folding slips of square paper.

Secondly, Light had kept the gun he'd used to threaten Mello and Near with his first full day at the camp, and it was this gun that he held to the head of Quillish Wammy when Quillish opened his door at two that morning to Light's knock. Light escorted the elderly gentleman from the hotel after a strip-search, handed him over to the two counselors from Wammy who followed L wherever he went, and ordered him to be taken to Wammy's own summer residence in the Bahamas under house arrest.

Wammy was (and who were they to mistrust L's lover?) whisked away at once.

Thirdly, Yagami knew that in order to make his position secure he had to once again seek out Beyond Birthday. An allegiance with B would anchor his actions as permanent. Besides, B knew L, and he knew how the camp ran, and he could be used as a sort of reference guide. A deranged reference guide, but Light could not afford to forgo any helpful options.

After forcing Wammy to tell him where B was held he made his way to a rudimentary cottage in the center of some forest by the camp. He found B fixing tea, tied to the cottage's central structural post.

On seeing Light B made a startled noise and dropped his teacup. Light stifled the noise with a soft kiss that took all of his courage to stomach making, telling B he needed him to conquer the world, calling him L after practically every other word. Light swept up the shards of herringbone china and made the tea himself while B buttered crumpets and his thumb and the plates and ate jam straight from the jar with a long spoon. He carefully corrected Light when needed and listened and, except for a few random freaks, remained in pseudo L form with every glance from dark eyes and shift of hips.

As it is important to this narrative, the following conversation will be recorded as having occurred just as Light was about to leave B's cottage.

"I don't want you to leave," B blushed. His finger trailed down the front of Light's shirt.

"I won't if you don't want me to."

"No." B's head tilted and he stepped forward and Light shut his eyes to receive the kiss as B whispered, "I need you, don't leave me, I need you."

With L trapped and Wammy banished and B at his side, dear reader, our darling _naïf_ was soon on a path to self-destruction.

Now, let us turn to L.

L was, to put it mildly, upset. Light had bested him. But natural curiosity took hold once the anger had cooled to something lukewarm and half-hearted and he didn't seek to rescue Light right away. He watched the news instead, wondering what on earth Yagami was going to do.

Suddenly, a severe economic crisis in southeastern Africa was quieted.

The second day, L received note that the war that had been brewing between two European countries was stopped, quickly followed by the announcement that two notorious pirates had just been arrested off the coast of Japan. The events continued as Light and B played their giant game of Risk together and it was only when L received the polaroid of a flushed, sleeping, tousle-haired Light with his head pillowed on a lanky cadaver-white arm that L knew he had to get out of Light's traps and go rescue him at once, making sure B was dead when all was said and done.

- - -

"Okay okay okay okay!" Matt shouted into the phone. "Calm _down_, L, we'll go find him, I'm sorry, it's not our fault—"

Mello snatched the phone away. "I'M SORRY HE'S SCREAMING AT YOU WHAT DID LIGHT DO TO YOU I'M SORRY L WE'LL COME BACK RIGHT NOW I'M SORRY I'M SORRY I LO—"

"L, this is Near."

Two and Three seethed.

"This is your fault," Near said after listening for a bit. Then he stared at the receiver. "He hung up on me."

"I wonder _why_." Mello snatched the phone back. "You don't tell the GDITW that he sucks cause he's in _love_."

"Is that why you lost the plane tickets?"

Matt curled into a tighter circle around his laptop and wished they'd just go into the next room and get it _over_ with. But that wasn't to be, no, instead there was an awkward, meaningful pause in which Near and Mello gazed into each other's eyes and and the hormones seethed more abundantly.

"France," Near blinked. "L said they were in France."

"I'm buying the tickets," Matt muttered, and they were on a plane by the next day.

- - -

Only on the fourth day did B become intimidating and Light knew the scope of the decision he'd made to allow B to trap him.

Foremost: Light's cunning had held. The staffers were oblivious. Money was flooding the camp's accounts, the children adored him, and slowly and surely he and B were following Light's plan to create world peace. But pride at trouncing every idealist and philosopher and power-holder and achieving his dreams was beginning to blind Light's caution.

Such as now. He'd woke tied to his bed with B leering over him. In the light his eyes were enough like blood that Light held his breath and waited for a drop to splatter against his skin.

"What's wrong, Light-kun?" B asked in Japanese.

"Please untie me."

"No."

Light stayed quiet.

B dropped a kiss on Light's bare stomach and Light counted seconds to control his anger as he reminded himself of places he didn't want to bleed from.

B smiled and traced Light's ribs. "You're very pretty, Light-kun."

"Thank you," Light whispered.

"Watch this. Watch me." B kissed Light's stomach again and dashed off to the dresser where L's cell was. B flipped it open and jabbed at buttons.

"Hello? Hello? Yes, do it now. Now." Then he dropped the phone and jumped onto the bed, snuggling into Light as he turned on the TV attached to the ceiling above the pair. (This method of watching the news had been B's suggestion.)

Not ten minutes had passed before it was announced that the Prime Minister of England had been assassinated.

"I made my own plans," B laughed in Light's ear. "Wasn't that funny? Let's do it again!"

"_No_." Light knew he was going to throw up, he was going to throw up but he had to stop B, he was going to throw up but—he tangled his legs with B's and B stilled.

"Uh, no," B sighed, and dug under the mattress for the gun he'd hid there. "Stop," he sighed as he cocked it.

Light shrunk back and choked.

"Kiss me."

Light obeyed.

"You're very pretty, Light-kun. And you're mine." He dropped the gun beside Light's head and began untying Light's hands and feet. "If you would have tried to get away I would have killed you. The PM or you. See? Which is better?" He laughed. "I would have killed you."

"I know."

"No you don't."

No, he did not.

- - -

By the second week of the coup (B had been instrumental in delaying both L and the campers) Light had ordered all of L's personal files to be delivered to the rooms he shared with B and put B in control (it was an almost helpless action; B was growing ever more possessive and it was simply a way to sate him) as Light drew more and more into his obsession: L himself. He memorized cases and trials and records and with each folder opened and click of the mouse only thought, _I can beat you, I'm getting closer, I _know_ you now_.

- - -

"You should be working," Near said in Mello's direction. They were being held in a bunker in Poland—the closest they'd gotten to France before being waylaid by unspeaking men in suits and dark sunglasses. Currently Matt was being questioned. It was all very movie-like except that it was rank with the stench of B's handiwork, and the three felt helpless, knowing what B could unleash.

Near flicked over an origami crane and looked up at Mello. The latter had yet to reply as his mouth was filled with seedless cherry, stem and all.

"Imitating L isn't working," Near continued as he answered the imaginary response.

Mello spat out a knotted stem and grinned, insolent. "What did you want me to do?"

Near stared at the cherry stem.

"Near?"

"I'm thinking."

Mello began a long, slow cleansing of his juice-stained fingers by sucking on them and Near switched distractions.

"Mmhmm," Mello hummed around a finger. Near made a hot little noise in the back of his throat that made Mello's hand waver before pinky was swallowed by swollen lips.

"I hate you," Near whispered, and tucked his knees beneath his chin.

Mello waited for Near to look down again before shifting himself.

- - -

All it took was the sight of a spindly hand on the doorknob for Light to sink into his office chair with defeat.

"You're..."

"Just shut up," Light hissed, trying to rid himself of shame with anger. He scratched beneath his ear.

L shoved his hands in his pockets and began whistling Daft Punk.

_Last night, I had a dream about you_, Light thought. No. That was not how this was supposed to go. L was supposed to use his vast international authority to banish Light to an execution block or at the very least throw him in a Scottish dungeon to be fed rat-nibbled bread and alkaline-laced water. No, L was just killing suspense by whistling.

"You _are_ going to arrest me," Light said, watching L pull out the handcuffs, still incredulous even if he did deserve nothing less than torture.

"No," said L, also incredulous. "You disobeyed me. The penalty doesn't change. Action and consequence." He went back to whistling as he shuffled forward.

"Stop whistling."

"Why?"

"Because I _like_ that song and you're _ruining_ it."

"There are other reactions—"

Light knew L was expecting it but the kick still ripped out of him. L dodged the kick, grabbed Light by the front of his shirt, and used him to wipe the desk clean before slamming him flat on his back.

"And there are different sorts of releases for built tension, Yagami."

Light refused to meet L's eyes.

"Please hold out your arm. Don't punch."

Light obeyed and swallowed down the sigh of relief that the command didn't come with a kick or snarl or sloppy, wet kiss.

Once snared L gently tugged Light up.

"Where are we going?"

"To eat."

Light noticed how much the chain was trembling. "When...when was the last time you ate, L?"

L sucked on his finger. "I don't remember. I had something on the plane but I don't remember which plane."

"I missed you."

"You, Light Yagami, are second only to myself at lying. Or how much damage did B do?"

He shoved Light against the wall, pinning his arms down with a stretched length of chain across his body. L stepped in closer and Light flinched.

"Ah," L whispered. He reached into his pocket and yanked out the cracked and stained polaroid. "How did the domestic violence ever escalate from this coziness?"

Light took one look at the picture and sniggered. "I made him take that. I figured by the time you got it you might come back faster if I was losing control of him. It was," he blinked, hazel eyes flashing, "a precautionary measure."

"So L flies back to Light in a jealous rage because he thinks his greatest enemy has his secret love in his embrace?"

He had such a talent for making Light's sound theories utterly ridiculous.

He followed the sentence with a giggle, a creepy and high little noise that made all defenses go up. "Of course I'd come back to rescue you, _you_, Light Yagami, _you_, Raito-kun, _Light_, only _you_ are the most important...not the death of the British PM, the one I helped ascend to that position, not because of the biological warfare B unleashed in the Congo when you weren't looking, it wasn't the arms he smuggled to the child sex trade ring in the Philippines, it wasn't the way he destroyed evidence of hundreds of cases I had locked away until you gave him the keys at some point...no, Light, only _you_ are important. Because I _love_ you. Come on, they had a buffet in the conference room."

Light slouched after L silently lapping at his injuries as they entered the conference room and L made straight for the tables piled with cold food. He grabbed a flimsy paper plate and began heaping it high with fried rice.

"Are you ready to tell me everything?"

And Light tore a stack of napkins into pieces and told L everything, his perfect memory outlining the daily events and recalling exact conversations that would be checked against the cameras B had made sure to keep on after Light turned them off. It took three and a quarter hours to tell, and L quietly consumed the contents of each silver dish as Light spoke.

"Now where?" Light croaked, thirsty and touching a finger to a temple to soothe his hunger headache.

"Now I ask questions. We aren't done."

"I'm hungry. I need to go the bathroom."

"So, what's pseudo _me_, exactly?"

"I. Told. You."

"Play nice, Yagami, or I'll hold you here till you pee yourself."

Light laid his head on the table and remembered he deserved this.

"Are you crying?"

"No," Light choked.

"Why are you crying?"

"I'm sorry," Light bawled. "I'm sorry already. Can I GO TO THE BATHROOM NOW."

"Yes," L whispered, and Light's head wasn't up to see the self-recrimination in his eyes.

- - -

Mello screeched L's full name when Near's phone rang. Near didn't mind the interruption. Matt and Mello had spent the last seventeen hours yoked together in the full bloom of bestfriendshiplet'sdietogetheralways which was how Near was phrasing it in his head as he watched them pig out, shove data in his direction, play video games, shove data in his direction, tell horrendously filthy jokes, shove data in his direction, and ignore all his pleas for help. The most they would say was, and it was usually Matt, "But you're first and L'll be sooo proud of you when we get back if you get us out of here."

This was his comeback now as Mello dived for the phone in Near's pocket.

"I'm first," he cooed. "I get to answer."

Mello shoved his hand in Near's pocket anyway and smirked and fished for the thing much longer than necessary, replying with, "And you deserve a break, baby. HI L. IS YAGAMI IN JAPAN YET?"

It was painful standing this close to Mello's vocal chords so Near moved back and pouted. Matt clung to the doorway and wiped his GBC screen on his pants over and over as he listened, tapping the call in the other room (it wasn't needed but it was something to do).

"WHAT. L. OH. OH. OH. OKAY. AH. UM. NO. OKAY. OKAY. I LO—OKAY. BYE."

"So?" Matt returned to rescuing Peach.

"We're out of here tomorrow but L's going to London with Light for a case." He was too sullen to even try to return the cell to Near's pocket. "He said we have to move Wammy's back to the US. And make sure Light's family gets back to Japan safe."

"Light's family?" Matt's head snapped up. "His sister too?"

Mello's eye twitched. "You and your cliched asian girls thing."

"No," Matt snapped, stamping his foot, "you haven't seen her. She's—gah—and she's just as smart as Light."

"Unnng," sneered Mello. He fluttered his hand. "You can take care of that. Me and Near'll do the camp thannnggg."

Proving that close relations induced the rubbing off of each other's quirks, Matt's eyelid twitched. "Please. Please. What time tomorrow? Oh, here, actually, I'm just gonna be right back. Forgot my sage." The door snapped shut behind him and the sound was followed by a series of clicks that denoted all the locks closing.

"Forgot my sage?" Near echoed, lip curling in disgust.

"He's giddy," Mello explained. "He gets to breath near Sayu's face, instead of the Sayu-on-the-monitor-that-he-stalks and aren't you happy too? We get to move the camp...oh..." Mello ran to the door and began pounding. "MATT. MATT. MAIL JEEVAS IF YOU DON'T _WHOOP_—" and he fell into the room with Near staring after him.

"What?" Matt drawled as the front of his shirt was seized.

"You have to stay with us," Mello gasped, kicking the door shut. "I don't know if I'll be able to control myself if it's just the two of us together the whole time. I have visions, Matt. Maid cos—"

"Kinky," Matt interrupted, shoved his hand into Mello's face and fighting for his shirt. "Don't tell me who's wearing it."

With a whimper Mello slumped to the floor.

Matt rolled his eyes. "The longer you stay in here the more there's a chance Near's going to be clutching his virgin butt in fear when you get back out there."

"He doesn't...oh. He's Near. He always knows."

Matt nodded, but Mello didn't see it. He was watching an ant try to go around a speck of something unidentifiable and considering the distance between eyeball and ant this was fascinating.

"And you're going...back to him...getting away from me..." An affectionate kick to Mello's back and Mello beamed.

"Matt, you're my favorite."

A grunt.

"Always and forever."

"Yeah, sure," Matt smiled.

- - -

Panicking in a bout of frenzied leg kicks and abrupt frustrated sounds, Light tried to rip himself away from the headboard to which he was chained.

"L," he called, keeping some element of bored oh-I-didn't-really-want-to-do-this in his voice, "L, where—"

"Here." L padded in in his bathrobe. "I took a shower. I doubt you wanted to be a part of that."

"No," Light croaked, staring at all available skin. "L, my hand is falling asleep."

The key was tossed over in a flash of silver and L admired the line of Light's throat as he arched to look behind him and undo the lock, but Light was still too mentally crippled by his lack of sleep to do more than struggle with the thing instead of using common sense and, perhaps, trying to sit up to see what he was doing. The chain was three feet of even length and L had looped it tight enough around the headboard to prevent self-strangulation or any detriment to sleep, but there was still enough slack chain to prevent all of Light's current actions.

"L, I messed it up. Oops." Light held up his wrists, which were now bound together inside of one steel loop. The key was somewhere in the bedsheets. "This really hurts," Light gasped, slightly out of surprise as he tried to shimmy his hands out.

"Where's the key?"

Light shrugged, going doe-eyed. He flopped onto his side, cheek cutely bunching up as his head hit comforter. "In the bed somewhere."

"Perhaps you should look."

"Perhaps," Light cheerily repeated.

A feeling, more excessive than smugness, than satisfaction, made L turn so Yagami wouldn't see the smirk he was giving his closet door. That Light was incautious enough in his happiness to let L see it, and knowing from whence the happiness stemmed, gave L feelings so priceless he bobbed up and down for a bit on the pads of his feet before grounding himself.

"Yagami, I have an assignment today and you won't be chained but you have to come with me. We're going to a manor house in a rural region of France."

"What's my role?"

"You don't have one. And you're not coming at all if you can't find the key."

"It's on the floor. Then what am I supposed to do?" His voice had grown cold, and the familiarity of it was humbling. L began tossing dress shirts on the floor.

"You're going to wait in the car. It shouldn't take more than an hour. You could read a book. Or call Mello. Or write a letter to your charming parents, who I met yesterday. Tell them that they're being escorted back to Japan by our staff because we needed their rooms for...or whatever excuse you want to make up."

"I want to go with. Give me a valid reason—"

"I don't want you there."

"My hands are turning purple."

"Light," L sighed. Stomping over from the soft slopes of white at his feet L clutched his towel more tightly as he rescued the key from the carpet, picking it up with his toes and then flicking it up with a kick into his hand. He bent over Light and thrust the key into the lock.

"Another one?" Light muttered.

L glanced down and knew where Light's eyes rested: a line of small bruises smudging his pale shoulder.

"What?" L tucked in his towel and began massaging Light's tender wrists and Light was too embarrassed that he'd spoken out loud when he'd thought the sentence had been in his head to do more than blush and stare at the ceiling and (to L's surprise) puff out his cheeks.

"What? I didn't—what did I say?"

"Nothing," L snickered.

The blushing deepened. "Can you not—" he ripped his hands away. "Thanks." He rose at once and stalked away to the shower.

- - -

L stopped by a _pâtisserie _on the way and loaded down Light's lap with fragrant paper bags full of scrumptious, delicate little concoctions that were making warm spots all over Light's lap. L carefully emptied each bag as they drove, going through countless cups of coffee that lay in a tray at Light's feet.

"Can I at least know where we're going?"

L spoke with a mouthful of croissant. "Dear Heart; it's a château."

Due to inflection and the mouthful of croissant Light mistook château name for a term of endearment and boggled. "What did you say?"

"The _château's_ name is Dear Heart."

Light looked out the window as if L hadn't spoken.

And then, a few scant minutes later, "Why prostitutes?"

"Moral obligations making your conscience want to prick mine?"

More morally obligated idealistically than he consciously thought, Light grunted. "No. I just think it's unusual."

"To want sex?"

Blushing furiously, Light began to arrange paper bags on his lap by emptiness levels. "No. Just. Prostitutes. Instead of just picking someone up. I um. It just seems...cold. I mean...wouldn't it mean more if it was a real relationship?

Yes, Light's one leap at fairy-tale fantasy has been revealed, dear readers.

"I just want sex," was the answer.

Light bobbed his head, not sure whether he was agreeing or confirming.

"It's you that confuses me," L began to drone, digging blindly with one hand for another pastry. Light occupied slender fingers with a cupcake.

"Thanks," L continued. "I mean, you're seventeen. You've never been in a real relationship, which doesn't matter, of course, but you don't look at porn, you never masturbate, you did nothing with that prostitute that cost me 5k...are you asexual? Celibate? Paranoid about catching something?"

"W-why does it matter?" Light spluttered.

"I'm just curious."

"I'm curious why you have such a sexual history―"

"Who is there?" L snapped. "Who matches me?"

Light's face smoothed into a plane of perfect blankness and he began folding waxy bags into little shapes.

"And that's what you want? You want chemical reactions and endorphins instead of basic drive, _genes_."

Light mumbled something, and L yanked the car over to the side of the road violently enough Light's head cracked against the window so hard the pain went to his teeth.

"Sorry," L said, unapologetic. "We're here."

Dear Heart nestled into a sort of hallow in the earth so it seemed the entire building was receding back, as if finished with its existence.

L snagged one last croissant before he opened the car door. "I'll be back in one hour or so."

As soon as L was far enough off Light cracked the window, reclined his chair, and fell asleep.

- - -

When one wakes, expecting day, and instead finds night, it becomes rational that blindness has suddenly and inexplicably overcome one and and until Light's eyes adjusted the adrenaline rush was such Light thought he was going to die.

But here was the car. He was stiff and chilled and starving and it was exactly 3:23:56AM according to his watch and there was no L but the reality of night and time, which seemed to bear down on him with every passing second.

L had said one hour. This was either a game or something very seriously wrong had occurred.

Thankfully, there was a flashlight in the dash and Light set off, the beam drunkenly bouncing off wheat in front of him as he approached the _château_. He got frightened a third of the way to the house and turned back as he remembered he had Wammy's number in his cell.

"Do not approach the house," came a tone more sedated than anything he'd heard out of the daft man's mouth. "We'll secure it tomorrow."

"What do you think happened?"

"He must be dead," said the man on the other line. "Dead or missing, but until we can get a task force there to scour it I'll have no one enter."

Light stopped walking. "Are you _serious_?"

"L is, after all, mortal."

Light was walking back now, Wammy's voice a false sense of security as crickets leaped out of the way of his feet.

"But...he can't just die. This is one of his games, like, well, all of this has been, he can't really be dead."

"Where are you?"

"Dear Heart."

"That's the Morel case. He could very well be dead."

Light let himself into the house and, before he realized what he was seeing, almost fell backwards to get away from the body at his feet.

"I found him," Light whispered.

He dropped the phone. Wammy was not important. Importance was feeling for pulse.

Nothing but stiffness, coldness, unchanging certainty. This was a shell. What had been L Lawliet no longer occupied the space.

Shaking, he grabbed for the phone again.

"He's dead."

"Get in the car. Come back here. Pack, because you'll leave tomorrow."

"W-what?"

"Listen to me carefully. This no longer concerns you. You must be sent home."

All of this sounded perfectly logical. Light stood and stumbled back to the car, collapsing over the steering wheel.

_I think he's really dead. What if I could have saved him? I won't be the successor. It'll be one of them. I'm not needed. I'm not wanted. That was him, and he's dead. He's dead. He's dead. He said one hour. I saw him walking. He said only one hour. I should have stayed awake but he said only one hour. _

Creating a well of bottomless guilt he was prepared to drink from for all eternity the cold, pessimistic side of Light briefly wondered if the Wammy Foundation would sue.

"Still won't get him back," he muttered to himself. The image of L's back, walking through that field, replayed so many times it was almost a memory he'd created himself.

He fell out of the car once it was parked and stumbled inside the chalet, only to find Wammy and a slew of people he'd never seen before waiting for him.

"You're going to be questioned first thing tomorrow," Wammy said gently. "And then you'll go home. It's all over for you, Light Yagami, unless the next L wants to continue Lawliet's experiments on you."

Light nodded and brushed past them and wished his body had been traded for L's.

He collapsed in his bed and didn't sleep.

- - -

Haggard, the next morning he was allowed to be flown the the site and was handed coffee as a detective named Naomi led him from scene to scene and pieced together L's final moments. The body had been removed hours before Light appeared again and Light felt gravitated towards the spot with a pull that made him ache as he stood upstairs and watched fingers sketch out bullet trajectories and half-focused on the calm, steady voice as the facts were laid out.

L was dead. He sipped his coffee and thought of the countless cups L had drunk.

- - -

The plane trip home was not worth mentioning, other than it made Light exhausted and irritable at the lack of contact and the endless vision of L's back as he walked away for the final time, and he held imagined conversations that had never come in an odd sort of way to comfort himself, and when he dozed the voices would continue and he'd dream of glances and whispers and touches that, when he woke, provided a blanket of bittersweetness that took two bus trips to discard.

- - -

His mother was grateful to see her precious, perfect boy home, and he was immediately unburdened of laundry baggage as she announced that dinner was just now ready and it was so nice that Light had a friend there to welcome him home.

Hope burst so bright he ran in and almost tripped over L, who was lounging at awkward angles on the floor sucking on a stick of pocky.

Light let out a string of sentences his mother would not have approved of.

"I thought there was drive in you, Yagami. I thought there was curiosity. I would have even accepted it if it was only pride that would have made you want to solve the mystery of my death―" L was now crawling awkwardly upright "―but no, you're told to shut up about it and go home and you obey."

Shamed to his core, Light insisted on skipping dinner and escorting L back to his hotel personally, refusing to say a word as L explained how the ruse had been set up and that his parents fully knew of the hoax, and that there was a room for Light held at the hotel and they'd be heading back in two days. He ignored the cheery japanese-spoken _Goodnight_! from L and stalked down the hall, insisting digging for his key in his pants and grateful for another reason to hate him, though a much larger and sultry reason was strutting down the hall.

"Well _hello_ there," said the prostitute, eyeing Light as if more money than expected was to be made.

Light stuck up his chin.

"Just being friendly, pet," soothed the package of meat. "But look at you. Why does he need me when you're down the hall? You two just don't click?"

Gold eyes glimmered. "I'll give you a bonus if you do something for me."

- - -

Skin soaked in oil. Hair tousled sexily, as if Light had just stumbled out of the grasp of someone else. Tiny little shorts that Light didn't even think would fit, and yes, he'd had to zip into them lying down to get them on, but on they were, and now, body glowing in the dim light and a pout already on his lips, Light knocked on L's door.

"Come in."

Light pouted a bit more, hooded his eyes as he'd seen in old films, and walked in almost shyly.

Suddenly, this was all so wrong.

L was staring up at him where he sat on the foot of his bed, looking as if he'd just recoiled from being struck. His eyes went up and down Light's body and he _winced_, then blushed, and then stared at his knees.

All of the purring and cajoling and nasty, wicked things Light was going to say dissolved like sugar on his tongue.

L looked up. "What are you doing? Because I really, really..." his voice gave out and his mouth set, then he tried again. "...really don't understand," he whispered. He licked his lips and buried his face in his knees. (Dear readers, having the boy one is infatuated with walk into one's bedroom and offering themselves up as a sex toy does not gently affect the mind or the genitals. L was trying to gather his brain cells together, recalling them from where they had all slipped down and hidden in his penis, which he was hiding. Unfortunately he had not been quick enough―thankfully Light thought it was just anticipation.)

"It was a joke," Light whispered.

"Please explain how this is a joke," L gritted out, brain still autonomously run by Light's body.

"I um. You want sex, right? So...if I come in, it's a joke, cause you don't get sex with me? But you thought you were getting sex?" Shutting up. He was shutting up and still staying home because he was never going to be able to live this catastrophe down.

"Ah," was all L said. He wiggled his toes and hid his face again.

"I'm really sorry."

"How far were you planning to go?"

"I wasn't. I thought you would throw me out―"

"At least have the decency not to lie. Until you got turned on and it was no longer a joke, right?"

Light tugged on his shorts and huffed. "You couldn't turn me on." He felt brave. And obvious. But L just wiggled his toes and stared, the blush staining even deeper and spreading down his thin neck and disappearing past his shirt.

"Are you quite finished?"

Why did this never _work_. Here was Light, sweating sex, and L was supposed to be all needy right now and shove him against the door, and _L would not stop using his tongue and mouth during sex _was accidentally thought and the thoughts that followed were slurred together and totally denied as soon as the shape of them formed in Light's mind.

The denial process was difficult, which is why he was left staring at L with his lips slightly parted, breathing heavily as he unconsciously tipped back into the door and closed his eyes.

"Light, are you alright?" he heard L say, and when he opened his eyes L was no less than inches away with a look of tangled confusion and amusement as if he was slightly sorry that it was Light's little shorts that were cutting off circulation but hey, that was funny.

This went over Light's head. Everything was going over Light's head except for L's body heat washing over him and L's tongue as it nervously touched a lip and L's eyes, which were pulling him forward till...

Dear readers, it was not a kiss sublime enough to be described in full. It wasn't even a full kiss, what with L shoving Light backward and Light moaning first in want and then pain-and-want; in fact it could be summed up with the word _failure_.

"What was that?" L screeched. "What are you doing? I don't like you, for the last time, _I don't like you_."

It was as if something inside Light fell. As if something, unconsciously, had been standing on a precipice, and in its falling jarred Light to the reality of its existence, only for him to mourn the death.

He stood there for a moment feeling lightheaded with self-revelation. "It was a joke," Light whispered. "I'll go now." He awkwardly turned and groped at the door handle before L swatted his hand away (and the touch made Light electric and the revelation bloom ever more clear) before he was gently pushed through, and L's fingerprints were burnt into the small of his back and Light stumbled to his own room and tried to sleep.

L, watching him on his monitor, knew it didn't come.

* * *

Finally, right? In more than one context. ^^

Please review, if only to yell at me for not updating in months.


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